Wednesday, July 28, 2010

I Am Allergic to July

I can tell I'm becoming responsible because I stopped getting those hangovers where I spend all day moaning and sweating and bitching about Margot Kidder's Lois Lane eye make up. Haven't had one of those in months. There are several reasons for this, the main one being dread, the second one being I stopped watching Superman whenever I had a hangover. Superman used to be my official Lonely Hangover Movie, but lately I've been watching Stardust because it reminds me of a guy I barely knew before I started having shitty summers. Or was it the first shitty summer?

I hate remembering unrequited crushes, but I do it all the same. Remembering them is much better than having them, because I can jiggle my memories around to convince myself he really actually returned the feelings and was too scared to act upon them. Or something.

The current unrequited crush is a fucking doozy that's been on and off for like three years, and whenever I see him I act like an asshole. Last summer he came into the office to drop of some prints when my face was at its most swollen. Even though I swore to keep the more attractive profile facing him during our conversation, when he asked how I was doing I immediately cranked my neck around, pointed at my jaw and declared, "Well, I'd be a lot better if I didn't have this fucking goiter growing out of my face. Check it, from this side I'm Marlon Brando."

"Wild One Brando or Apocalypse Now?"

"Doctor Moreau."

And then he laughed a real laugh, not one of those fake ones. See, it's those conversations that make him so dreamy. Do I have the balls to ask him out at all? No, and I don't think I ever will.

The past four summers, I've had some fucking ridiculous health problem. One summer I developed an allergic reaction to my lotion, and my hands were covered in cracks and blisters for two months before I discovered the cause. I didn't have health insurance then. Last summer was the swollen face and the liver ultrasound debacle, which was a fucking hoot. The summer before...okay, it wasn't so much of a "health problem" as it was a "crying problem."

On Saturday my eye swelled up. There is a fucking stye. Was a stye. It's basically gone now, but I look like I'm getting over a wicked shiner, and I've been make jokes about spousal abuse.

Tomorrow, the crush will be stopping by the office. Of course.

This post started off as one thing and now I don't remember where I am anymore.

Okay, so I'm actively avoiding hangovers. That, my friends, is the equivalent of willingness to accept responsibility for my irresponsibility. And old age. And the fact that MoLinder isn't here anymore and I don't have a drinking buddy at home.

But CrazyLiz moved in today, whom I love dearly, and along with her a one-eyed cat built like a tank named Oscar and a pepper-faced chocolate lab named Harley. Harley will only be here for a month, but hot damn, I'm excited.

For one month I will have a dog. Things are lookin' up for ole Rassles.



nursemyra said...

Wear an eyepatch. Eyepatches are sexy

sid said...

Ha. I've had a crush on the guy I work with for 5 years. 5 years. He's perfect except for the fact that he has a gf who buys him neon pink T-shirts.

daisyfae said...

not just a dog, but a brown dog. they are the best...

Kono said...

How old are you? avoiding hangovers? you've learned much Skywalker, i just recently (in the last year) figured out how much i can drink and what the corresponding hangover will be as i exit the decade that starts with 3, call me a slow learner (exclude World Cup month where i conisistenly got hammered and passed out by noon or 1pm do to early start times). And Nursie's right, eyepatches are sexy.

grumpy said...

dogs cure everything, styes included.

Del-V said...

My grandmother told me that you get styes from watching TV in the dark.

renalfailure said...

Nursemyra is right, throw on an eye patch and call yourself Elle Driver. You will be super hot and it's a great way for people you're too shy to talk to directly to initiate conversations with you.

When I think about my unrequited crushes, I jiggle the memories so that the guys they ended up being with turned out to be rapists. Then I can say "Well, I'm glad that didn't work out because that girl had the awful sense to pick a rapist over me." That tends to stem the crying for a bit.

Anonymous said...

It's posts like this that make me feel better. Just ask the guy if he wants to get together for drinks with you and some of your friends.

M. said...

omg dude yes toooooootally wear an eyepatch.

Blues said...

Summer sucks. Humans are meant to be more covered up than this, it protects us from crazy eye viruses and shit.

My health wavers between knowing I'm probably sick or something and really knowing for fucking sure that I'm really fucking sick omigod. I want to get a body scan, you know, just to cover all my bases, but then I'll worry that the actual body scan caused cancer. There's no way out of this vicious cycle, is there?

Arts Web Show said...

lol. perhaps the dog will resolve everthing
Ooh a stye sounds painful

MoLinder said...

i wish i was there to help you with your drinking problem (heh). as for the stye and the crush - when you explain the bruised eye, instead of domestic abuse (which is kind of pathetic) you should make it a fucking awesome story of how you saved a baby from a runaway horse ala ever after. work it.

la isla d'lisa said...

It's your own real-life version of the Waitresses 'Christmas Wrapping' ... "When what to my wondering eyes did appear? No lie it's that guy I've been chasing all year!"

Ellie said...

You'll have a dog! For one month, you'll have a dog!!!!!

Red said...

Okay, I got a new job and don't get to read blogs at work anymore. Hi! I remember some of my unrequited crushes, and one I actually loved. I'm getting married in 12 weeks to a guy who loves me and I love back and I'm here to tell you - this is better. Meet someone, Ross. Take a chance. And don't be too quick to shut out the guy who likes you that you aren't altogether sure about.

Rassles said...

Nurse: Agreed.

Sid: Girlfriends are fucking stupid.

Daisy: Doggydoggydoggy.

Kono: I've basically figured out lately that if I stick to just one kind of drink for the night, my life is way easier the next day.

Grumpy: Again, agreed.

Del-V: Ah, but what kind of TV?

RF: Fuck that, I'm not dying blind in a trailer with a black mamba.

OG: I have no guts.

Mae: Perhaps the eyepatch will give me guts.


Arts: Dogs do resolve everything.

MoL: No way, it would have to be something like, "I got punched by a kangaroo in an underground boxing match"

Lisa: you know it.

Ellie: See, you understand.

Red: I love that you're all motivational about the relationship thing, but to give a guy a chance I have to be asked out in the first place. Rub.