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November 07, 2005 - 9:16 am

ANOTHER LOST WEEKEND

Last night I recapped another lost weekend for Nicole who reminded me to please document my insanity before it passes like a summer storm, as I have to believe it will one day. I reminded her that people I actually know in real life read this thing on occasion, and I donít want to permanently tarnish their image of me as mom and architect and happy and sane, since some of these people leave their kids with me on occasion.

But then I figured what the hell? Iím only being bad from the perspective of my own self-imposed catholic guilt I manage to drag along with me even though Iím not catholic. Iím not doing anything mean-spirited, hurtful, or dangerous (mostly). Iím having Bacchus fun, celebrating life, eating, drinking, kissing boys, and generally being silly. And I make sure to exclude the kids from the adult fun.

So, here it is (slightly censored).

I had a highly suggestive phone call with a 25 year old soldier the other night. Itís true. Iím shamelessly exploiting him, I know. But, in my defense, he is a beautiful specimen of the human form and a trained killer. And we werenít actually in the same room together, so stop judging me.

I had a date Friday night with an older man. His birthday is five days from my fatherís. Same YEAR. He thinks Iím a goddess, and thatís fine with me. Heís a professor, and we talked about films and politics and books and his grown children, and one thing led to another, and we were suddenly drinking absinth at 5:00 in the morning. Hallucinations followed. I can feel your disapproval through my cable modem. Shut up already.

Saturday I stopped by and gave a little present of pear soda to a darling young South African man Iíve spent some time with lately. The choice of pear soda is due to the fact that he is light and sparkling, not too sweet, and refreshingly different. He makes me giggle on the phone when he says in that South African accent, ďOk, love, talk to you soon then, bye now dahling.Ē Heís going to be my date for the party my friend Kristie is having in my honor this weekend.

And Iíve been feeling pretty good about these fellows, about the prospect of company without attachment, about feeling desirable and sexy.

But then last night, I got a call from Piper. And as soon as I heard his voice I felt so silly for kidding myself with these other imbeciles Iím wasting time with. Iím trying so hard not to pine for him. Iíd been torturing myself with memories of something that I know could never be because the timing is wrong, our lives just wonít overlap again, I know this. Piper is starting his life and has all these great choices ahead of him. I would never try to insert his vivacious young self into my grown-up tedious world. But everyone else pales in comparison to this man, this odd, perceptive, beautiful, intelligent, man and I hung up the phone thinking it would be better to be alone than settle for less than that. He is all I really want. He is all that and more, and I miss him so much it hurts.

I could wallow in self-pity and regret forever, but pining is not in my nature. I know I have to get over it and let him go or I will make myself crazy and annoying with memories, tiresomely repeated, of that short, happy time. SoÖ

It was lovely while it lasted, and I guess I have to be satisfied with that, right?

So, who wants to go out for a beer?

~Samantha

recommended:
reading -Poetry Magazine
viewing -Danny Deckchair
listening -"At the Hop" by Devendra Banhart

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