Face to face Part III

Here is Part I and II just in case you missed them

I couldn't sleep...it was more like a succession of naps. We were wrapped around each other, the snuggle fest of a lifetime. The next morning I rolled over and there he was looking at me. He's an early riser, I'm not. He was waiting patiently for me to wake up, I'm not a morning person and he was trying to respect that. After what seemed liked hours we finally decided that breakfast was a necessity so we got up and made our way to the kitchen.

Over a cup of coffee and some eggs he made for himself we chatted. The comfort of the night before had somehow slipped away a bit. We sat at the table and tried to find the right thing to say. As soon as the coffee was gone I dragged him back to bed, thats where we seemed to be the most at ease. It couldn't hurt to get us back to our comfort zone. We had discussed driving around, he had wanted to check some things out while he was in town. Instead we laid in bed, laughed, joked, kissed, played with Bailey. I took out my camera and drove him to distraction. I had warned him that would happen. There was no way I'd have him there and not immortalize it. He wasn't prepared. He kept laughing at me, he'd never known someone who was so in love with their bed, this was an ongoing joke we had. Every time we spoke on the phone I was in bed, he thought it was cute. We spent most of the day there. Nothing illicit or scandalous, just sweet and simple.

At two our hunger was getting the best of us...we finally got up and got dressed. We had a great lunch together at one of my favorite spots while we people watched from our table on the sidewalk, we drove to the beach, went to Wholefoods. We hugged and held hands while stocking up...buying the necessities wine, beer, some food to sustain us. We came full circle when at 5 we ended up back in bed in our pj's watching a movie. The movie didn't last long, we switched it off to talk and cuddle some more...it was the main item on our itinerary for the weekend.

Plans for the night fell through so we improvised and cooked dinner together. I'm not sure what was funnier, how adorable he looked wearing my owl apron or me spilling half of the pepper in the ground beef. Our meal was a comedy of errors but we laughed, joked and drank our way through it. When everything was done, we each had a few bites and decided we weren't really hungry. It seemed like cooking was just an excuse to do something together. We ended up in bed and talked while listening to music for hours. We discussed our relationship, where it started, how we ended up here, our plans, our friends. We finally fell asleep just as we had the night before, wrapped around each other.

I woke up the next morning feeling like I had just had one of the best nights sleep in my life. I rolled over reaching out my arm to hug him. But instead of him my hand found an empty, cold bed...

Weird Noises with Bailey

Sometimes I like to antagonize my dog...because she's freaking adorable and her noises make me want to ear her little face!

Bailey and Jossie from Jossie Posie on Vimeo.

Face to face Part III will be up later today

Face to face Part II

Part I can be found here

My cell phone rang and I heard his voice on the other end. "I'm outside", in my insane flurry to go meet him I did the most natural thing in the world...I locked the bottom lock and shut the door. Except, FUCK, the keys were inside and Vickie was spending the night elsewhere. Awesome, way to start out our weekend.

As I was walking outside I dialed my sisters number and told her I had locked myself out. To say she was pissed was an understatement. I was finishing my conversation with her as I saw a face peeking around the corner of a large van. My face instantly lit up with a smile, his face mirrored mine. He came up to me and grabbed my hand as I hung up the phone and then we hugged. A big long crushing hug. It was great. I finally had him in front of me. We must have looked like idiots standing on the sidewalk smiling at each other.

We walked over to my front stoop and sat down. It was a bit off, nervous energy radiating. He kept looking at me, like I wasn't real. Kept saying that I was a "virtual person" not a real one. We sat around, talking, trying to get passed the initial shock for about 30 minutes and then Vickie and Gabe pulled up.

Just what I wanted an audience. Introductions were made, we went inside and he sat down with Gabe on the sofa with a beer to talk. They seemed to get along. Gabe has had this ongoing joke with me that the Sexy Legless Pirate's name is a fake one, and he confronted him about it, SLP laughed it off. I was laughing because I couldn't believe Gabe had said it to his face. I fluttered around the apartment, talking to Vickie as she packed, jumping in and out of the boys visit obviously too worked up to relax.

Once they left we sat down to eat dinner. Neither of us was really hungry, we kind of pushed the food around our plates. He had been flying all day, it took 3 different flights to get him to me. He was exhausted. He jumped in the shower while I got ready for bed. It was still a bit off. Aside from our initial hug we hadn't touched each other, we didn't know what was appropriate. I put on my pj's while he finished in the bathroom, even getting into bed felt like a choreographed number. He sat down on one end, me on the other, Bailey in the middle as a buffer. She was our "safety" when it got uncomfortable we could focus on her. She loved it, the attention, the petting, the new guy. We talked for a little longer, just facing each other in our pj's.

A bit later we decided to crawl under the comforter. I wasn't sure what to do, how to lay. It was getting easier. We weren't so uncomfortable, we were joking, laughing, making light contact. We layed down and our feet found each other under the blankets. It seemed like we were always talking about finally getting to snuggle in bed...me being the championship snuggler that I am it was only natural. The lights were off, we were talking about nonsense, how surreal it was to be next to each other.

Finally, he asked timidly if we were going to kiss so I leaned over and did just that.

Face to face Part I

I never would have guessed that innocent conversation on 20 something bloggers would end up here, but after five months of talking on the phone, texting, e-mailing etc., the Sexy Legless Pirate D0-}- and I finally met.  

I once read another bloggers take on meet ups and it made me wonder if our first meeting would be the same, this blogger (whose name I can't remember) said it was like meeting a stranger who you knew absolutely everything about so you had no great stories to share with each other making for some serious awkwardness.  

We had been talking about meeting for so long that it seemed like it would never happen.  To be completely honest, I've known the date of his visit for a month.  His plane tickets were bought, vacation time requested, arrangements were made.  But I decided there would be no posting about it on the blog, until after, so with the exception of a select few readers no one knew.   When Wednesday finally came around I thought I was going to burst with excitement, my last day at work.  I wasn't nervous yet, just happy.  I went home Wednesday night after a super hectic day with an extra little bounce in my step.  

Thursday morning I woke up, much earlier than expected considering I was off from work and tossed and turned barely controlling the nerves.  I never thought I could get so worked up over meeting someone.  But the anticipation of this had been building for so long it was almost unbearable.  Then at 10 am I get a text from him.  He missed his flight.  There was a horrible storm where he lives and the drive to the airport was horrific, he got to the airport 10 minutes late.  

He was making arrangements to catch the next flight, but it wouldn't get him here until 8 pm as opposed to 2 when he was originally expected.  I was bummed but at least he'd be able to still get here today.  The hours dragged ass.  We texted a bit back and forth while he waited at the airport and finally at around 6 I started to get ready.  His plane would be landing at 8 and it would take him about 30 minutes to get to my apartment after that.  

At 9 o'clock I got a text from him.  "I'm two min. away babes"  My first reaction (on the inside) was "great just enough time to vomit."  Instead I did one quick look at myself in the mirror and tried to calm the hell down...

We're on a break

So ladies and gentlemen, I will be taking a couple days off from the blog world starting tomorrow. I suspect when I return not only will I have oh so much to report but my reader will be filled to capacity (if that can even happen).

Expect a very good post upon my return ;-)

Teenage hormones run amok

I think I am a pretty talented person. I would have to say though that I have one talent that is far and away above all the others in my arsenal...

Getting caught by my mom doing naughty things with boys

This is really and truly my specialty. I'd like to tell you that this only happened once or twice in my life. But that would be a lie. In fact it happened on a regular basis. I was by no means "easy" in high school, but I did have quite a few boyfriends (especially my sophomore year for some reason). My parents were always super mellow and allowed me to bring the guys to my house and even went as far as letting us hang out in the room unchaperoned, sometimes with the door closed.

Photo credit: Papou @deviantart

This is a recipe for disaster when you have two teenagers in the room. I mean really, the second the door was closed all sorts of shenanigans went down. In some cases stuff went down even before the door was closed. The first time it happened, I was making out with Whitey in my room, someone mind you that I refused to admit to anyone I was dating including my parents, so this was a super secret make out session. I think my mother was equipped with a special sensor that alerted her to my hormone levels or something because seriously the second any goodness started to go down she would walk in. This particular case being the first time wasn't that bad. I was practically being swallowed by his mouth when she caught us but whatever no big deal. She would catch me doing this and a bit more with this guy 3 more times. One of those times was so bad that I still have nightmares about it. Seriously it haunts me.

After him she got wise and decided that the boyfriends and I needed to sit on the couch. So with the next one, Ghetto Superstar, our first few dates were in the presence of the household. But my mother being the cool laid back mom she was thought that was a bit much and eventually allowed us to go back to the room. And thus commenced the illicit making out. She would catch me with him a couple of times. It became a household joke. Eventually, my boyfriends would be called "the flavor of the month" Nice.

Photo Credit: SaylaMarz @deviantart

By the time I started dating my serious long term high school boyfriend, The Priest, my mom had become desensitized to the whole thing. I remember telling her all about The Priest and what a great guy he was. This was by no means and exaggeration. I was his first girlfriend, we were juniors in high school. He had never kissed, brought a girl home, gone on a date, nothing. I built my case for him and my mom was seriously convinced that nothing would go down if we were allowed alone time in the room. It was our 2nd or 3rd date and being the good boy that he was she had faith he'd behave and that he'd get me to behave as well.

I swear to God we did, we sat on my bed and watched Mary Poppins, a movie that to this day I equate to him and only him. We held hands all G rated stuff. The second we started to make out, like horny teenagers no less, my fucking mom walked in. OF COURSE!!! We had been alone for 3 hours with no incident the second my oh so priestly and chaste momma's boy boyfriend laid one finger on me my mom walks in. This whole experience seriously traumatized me.

Photo Credit:~gquann @deviantart

It didn't end there either my mom would catch me with my next boyfriend, Shell, and my future ex-hubby. Luckily by the time they both came around time spent at my parents house with boyfriends was limited so the opportunity for awkward moments was at a bare minimum. Once I finally started having sex I absolutely 100% refused to ever have sex in my parents house. I knew the odds, if there was nakedness involved my mom would walk in, if there was under clothing groping involved she'd sense it. I wasn't having it. To this day I get a bit uneasy getting it on at home. Even now that I don't live with my parents, I wouldn't put it past them to walk in for a surprise visit while I'm getting some. Maybe taking back their key would give me an added sense of comfort.

Is talking about poop a bit too much?

A few weeks ago Nick, Marisol and I decided to be super fat for lunch and go to Taco Bell. This never happens. Not only do we never eat fast food but we are even less likely to eat the complete dog food that is Taco Bell. We had planned to drive to the bay that day and eat while getting some sun and delicious breeze. We ordered half the menu between the three of us, clearly over compensating for the fact that we never eat there and drove down to the water. We had a picnic in the car, talking crap, stuffing our face and listening to Lady GaGa. Don't judge.

When we got back to the office we discussed the merits of pooping. Because clearly Taco Bell = Poop.

I am not one to really discuss my bathroom functions openly, despite my being so open and honest about a lot of things this is not one of them. But this also happens to be one of Nick and Marisol's favorite topics to discuss so I always end up getting dragged in. Isaiah, was also extremely fond of these kinds of conversations (as evidence by his "Condoleezza Rice saw me shitting" story) We discussed how great a highly anticipated poop is. Really and truly, its just like getting to pee when you haven't been able to. The sense of relief is pretty fucking awesome.

Then we discussed what is quite possibly the holy grail of bathroom functions.

Invisible Poop.

You can lie to yourself and pretend to not know what invisible poop is but everyone dreams of the day that they will have invisible poop. Well maybe not dreams but you know what I mean. Its the epitome of a perfect bathroom experience. You do your business and its not even messy. Wow. It quite literally blows your mind. Its one of the few times when you are probably excited to have gone to the bathroom. "Invisible Poop, yeah!!"

During these discussions I realize there may be a chance that we are a tad too close to each other. To an outsider listening in I imagine they would be completely disgusted by us. But it made me wonder are my friends and me the only people who have open chats about pooping on a regular basis?

Calle Ocho a one sided opinion

Every year Miami has what I guess can best be described as as Carnival or even better a street party. This wondrous event is called Calle Ocho (8th Street) and takes its name quite obviously from the street in which it is held. It has been around since I was born and it the pinnacle of all things Latin in Miami. According to my research, Calle Ocho began in 1978. It was meant to be a showcase of Cuban culture. This makes sense being that Calle Ocho is in the heart of Little Havana, the epicenter of Cubanism in Miami. (yes Cubanism is a word in my vocabulary) In the years since its inception it has grown steadily until its current incarnation. It is fucking huge. Its a one day event with tons of concerts going on simultaneously with a whose who of Latin musicians, games, street vendors, delicious latin food from what I hear it is quite the event.

An aerial shot of Calle Ocho

Honestly, I have never been. Does this make me a bad Cuban definitely, an even worse Miamian damn straight. Am I okay with this. Yup. While I don't think its a bad thing to go to Calle Ocho it is most definitely not my scene. The streets are lined with people carrying flags from their country of origin, dancing like crazies and partying it up. From the outside that sounds like fun. Who the hell doesn't love a good street party, right? Wrong, I love them except when its 90 degrees in March and you not only get wasted and groped but thoroughly sunburned.

Gabe, Vickie and potential patrons walking to the carnival

Last weekend was the fabulosity that is Calle Ocho. We went to Teresa and Gabriels house because they live 2 blocks away and Gabriel was dead set on selling drinks and parking spaces in their house to people making their way to 8th street.

I'm not really sure what was going on but I was obviously shocked

We went prepared, sunscreen, bathing suits, flip flops, iPod. We were outside for a good 5 hours and made over $120. Not a bad take I guess. Some of our friends parked at the house and walked over to the party. Some acquaintances came back after the festivities drunk out of their mind and started to "help" us sell drinks. This my friends is a perfect example of the type of people that frequent Calle Ocho on an annual basis. Vickie and Gabe were selling water, soda and beer.

Sucio!

The girls got there and started yelling, "Water, soda, beer, chocha!" For those of you that don't know that word, its vulgar as hell. Seriously vulgar, class I tell you, class. As soon as these little shenanigans began I made my way into the house and napped it up on the sofa, I was not in the mood for the skankfest thanks.

The day had taken its toll

Seriously though they ruined my tanning session, the first of the year might I add. I'd like to think at some point I will decide that I would like to see the insanity that is Calle Ocho but for now I am okay enjoying the music from two blocks away and enjoying free hamburgers and cold beer with AC only 2 steps away.

Social Networking Threesome

I was sitting at my desk today and decided to go through my Followers on Twitter, I realized that the majority of my followers were other bloggers, some of which I know in real life, like the whorebags, others are strictly "online relationships". Somehow these people actually give a crap, to some extent, about the boring ass shit that goes on in my day. Not only do they read my blog, which has blown massive ass lately, but they follow me on Twitter and in some cases are my friends on Facebook. I realized that on Twitter I am okay with almost anyone following me...God knows I have some weird ass people on there who do. But Facebook is kind of a different story. I feel that I should have some form of interaction with the person before we get all friendly.

Feel them out for the creepy factor, you know. Clearly my mother traumatized me as a child.

The world is out to harm me.

Or so she used to tell me.

Facebook, the root of all evil. I would have to say that the first time I saw one of my fellow bloggers friend request me on FB I was a little scared. Yes, I write openly about my life, but I tend to shy away when it comes to particulars about my work and about my friends and their jobs. Accepting a blog friend on FB would literally open up this new world to them. Not only could they see wayyyy too many pictures of me in all kinds of situations but they would have access to a whole new treasure trove of info. This is why I think FB is the devil. Really, who needs that much information about a persons goings on.

But then I had an epiphany. No one really gives a shit about me and my nonsense. Whether they follow me on Twitter, FB or read my blog on a regular. Despite what my mom thinks I am not worried about developing a slew of stalkers. Well maybe a little, now that I put it out there.

Fuck!

Really, I feel kind of bad for the small number of people who deal with the Trifecta of Jossie bullcrap on a daily, you guys deserve an award or something.

The shittiest couple of days

I've been negligent...I know this. I haven't read a blog, commented, posted, tweeted. Zip. My mind has been elsewhere.

They started laying people off at my office on Friday. It was a horrible day. Horrible! Not just because lay offs typically suck but because it was completely unexpected. Friday the 13th hit and it hit effing hard! It continued today and it would seem by the time I leave at 6 the deed will be done. Hopefully this will be the one and only round of layoffs we have but who knows, we are after all a charity and its not the best time to ask people for money.

So yeah. Great last couple of days. Hope yours were better :-(

To splurge or not to splurge

While piecing together the ensemble for my birthday party, (yes it is in July but most of my outfit is custom made and thus has to be ordered as of now) I stumbled across a fantastic photography studio in Austin, 666Photography. They have this amazing pin-up style but also do beyond words awesome high concept shoots. I loved it.

Copyright 2006-2007 666 photography

Copyright 2006-2007 666 photography

Copyright 2006-2007 666 photography

Copyright 2006-2007 666 photography

I have been wanting to do a pin-up photo shoot forever. Its actually on my 100 things to do list. For a while there I figured I would do it for the guy that I was with. And then, FAIL. The ex and I broke up, but to be honest, maybe a pin-up shoot would have not been the right idea for him. I am not so sure he would have appreciated me not fully dressed posing in photos.

So a couple of months ago, I decided that I would do it for myself. A day of pampering by a professional make-up artist and hair stylist, wardrobe and then photos. Argh! I am a tad shy in front of the camera and very un-photogenic. But I think doing something like this would really help me loosen up a bit. And would make me feel pretty. Lets face it, who doesn't want to feel pretty!

Every studio that I have found charges a couple hundred dollars for this kind of thing. It yields about 5 fully finished photos and takes most of the day. I decided on a whim to e-mail 666photography and see if they would be willing to do a group session of Teresa, Vickie and me when we visit Austin in May. The right idea behind the photo could really yield an amazing shot of the three of us, something that we don't have (and we would absolutely be clothed, no half naked pin-upy photos, that would be gross). So I e-mailed them. The studio responded to me last night and honestly its not too bad. Price wise they are definitely competitive and their photos are much better than the other studios I have seen who do the same thing.

Copyright 2006-2007 666 photography

Copyright 2006-2007 666 photography

Copyright 2006-2007 666 photography

Copyright 2006-2007 666 photography

But now the question is, will Teresa and Vickie be okay spending the money? And should I splurge on something like this when I am already taking a trip to Austin for a week? I tend to think yes. I will only be young for so long, and what a freaking amazing memento of my 20's would it be to look back on when I am all wrinkly.

Thoughts.

Censoring = the key to peace in my house

My sister and I had it out last night...about things and people that will not be named.

Its times like these that make me realize that our relationship is actually not that great. I am an open book, I always have been, I have never thought there was a reason not to be. Our argument last night made me think otherwise, maybe I shouldn't tell her everything. I have always considered Vickie my best friend but yesterday's conversation made me realize that she doesn't really think of me like that. I am just her little sister.

I think maybe I shouldn't tell her or Teresa everything. Yes Teresa is my best friend but she is also Vickie's best friend which means I tell one and the other inevitably finds out. So it would completely negate me not telling my sister. I love them both, but sometimes I think they have a skewed perception on life and dating. Vickie, divulges nothing about her personal life. Nothing. I don't know anything that goes on when she is not with me or Teresa. Its the way she prefers it. And Teresa, well Teresa has been with Gabriel since high school. So they are each others life.

Teresa, Me and Vickie

When I try to have conversations with them about certain issues, dating, being single, guys. They tend to think I am crazy. Yet, when I have these same conversations with lets say, Nick, Marisol or Janet they know where I am coming from. I don't get criticized, I get advice. Not always what I want to hear but thats the point, I get an objective opinion on the situation.

By the end of the night, Vickie and I were back to normal. With a new understanding. She was not allowed to chime in about my life because I am no longer sharing it with her. I know this seems odd and I am not sure how well I am going to be able to do this because I hate keeping things from people but I have other friends that I can talk to about these kinds of things. She reads my blog though, I am not going to change what I write about here, so either she can choose to stop or just swallow her thoughts on what I write about.

Obviously I am all sorts of frustrated this morning, and this is not the only reason why, but those issues will have to wait for another day and another post.

What came first the letter or the resentment?

Its taken me a few days to put my thoughts together before actually sitting down to write this post. I've been enjoying life a lot these days and didn't want anything to taint it. Like a letter from the ex-bf.

I new that my package would be coming any day now from him but I didn't expect what would be in it. Yes it contained the ever so important Harry Potter bookmark but it also contained: A letter from him, a cd he burned for me and an 80 something page booklet "Finding the Holy Spirit".Let me preface this by saying that, his faith was one of the things I always loved about him.

I was raised in a Catholic household, I attended church every Sunday as a child, went to Catechism the whole nine. But at the age of 14 I told my mom to shove it. I was done with church. I wasn't going to get my Confirmation, I wasn't going to go to mass anymore. The church and I had parted ways in our beliefs and I wasn't okay being a hypocrite and going just for the sake of appearances.

When the ex-bf and I first started talking, we were friends, nothing more. So I learned the ins and outs of his faith candidly. I understood that he wouldn't have sex before marriage, that he fasted, went to church every Sunday, spent and inordinate amount of time praying. It was fine. It was those things (among others) that made him the person I fell in love with. But once we started dating, I was very honest with him about my faith, or better put, lack there of. I told him under no circumstances would I lie to him to appease him. Tell him I felt something I didn't. And I never did, I was always honest with him about my faith and how I felt. I realized later on that he was not.

Yes, it bothered me that he was so narrow minded on certain issues. He seemed to be okay with my friends, and the fact that a HUGE number of them are gay. He told me he didn't necessarily agree with it but that was it. That's the way we lived for 9 months. We broke up in July when election time came around, one of the biggest issues I would discuss with people was Gay rights. Including him. I'm sorry, he knew the person I was. I never hid from him how adamant I felt that gay and lesbian couples be allowed to marry. But somehow it was like he was seeing that for the first time. He told me over the phone "I could never be with someone, who fought so hard and felt so strongly about those issues." my response "Well then you obviously shouldn't be with me, because thats not gonna change."

It was through this process, our after break-up adjustment period, that I realized how entirely wrong we were for each other. Yes, we were happy. But it was only that way because we managed to skirt certain issues. Glaze over them. That was not the way I wanted to live my life. And neither did he. After all he wanted to marry "A good Christian wife" and I my friends, was far from that. And you know what, I am okay with that.

So when I got his letter, I am not sure what I expected but I realize now that I probably shouldn't have been surprised by its contents...

"I would like to ask one favor even though I know its unlikely you'll do it. I still list Vickie, Angie, Marisol, Nicole and Nick on the prayer request at church every week. I still pray for them often (Teresa and Gabriel) and would desperately love to know when God becomes real in their lives and they accept Christ's love and sacrifice."

The rest of the letter was similar to that line accept it was directed more towards me and my relationship with God.

I know he means well, I do. But it still pissed me off. I am not going to read the pamphlet he sent, I am not going to listen to the cd of Christian music he burned for me. I want no part of it. Not because I don't believe in God. But because I don't want the narrow minded beliefs of someone as unforgiving, intolerant and judgmental as he is to taint the little faith I have left.

Something douchey this way comes

Gabriel's birthday is at the end of the month...and in our grand tradition of celebrating birthday's we are having a themed party. Its how we roll. So Gabe has been wanting to throw a "Douchebag" themed party for the last year or so but we've held off because we didn't want to insult anyone. Eff that.

What is a DB party you ask? Well its when everyone comes dressed as someone douchey. Oh you need examples...

• Ed Hardy DB
• Hipster DB
• Self tanner DB
• Label Whore DB
• Yuppy DB

I mean really, this list can go on and on.

I have been struggling for the last several weeks to try to figure out what my costume would be. What would be my douchey alter ego for the evening? And then last night while at Target, Vickie had an epiphany.

I will be a Girls Gone Wild DB.

If you are familiar with "How I Met Your Mother" (If you aren't, seriously, go shoot yourself right now), I will basically be a "Woo" girl. Fun times. The outfit that Vickie, Teresa and I put together last night at Target was so bad that I almost cried every time I had to look at myself in the mirror. It is truly atrocious. I don't want to give too much away but the final flourish on the ensemble will be a puka shell necklace. Oh the pain!

I will post pictures. Maybe. We will see if I can bring myself to subject you all to that.

We used to be friends

Dear L,

I am not really sure where everything went wrong with us. From the first day we met in the 5th grade we were inseparable. On that day as we sat in the courtyard waiting for the first bell to ring you asked me to dance your 15's, we had known each other for 30 minutes. But we hit it off instantly, we didn't understand how we had made it through the first 4 years of elementary school without each other. When I walked into class on the first day of our 6th grade year and saw you sitting there we both did a happy jig. The teacher immediately separated us, she could sense the trouble we would cause.

Our first few years weren't always easy. We had boy issues, as can be expected of any 11 year old best friends. Somehow we managed to push passed all the childish drama. I was there the day your nephew was born, he became the "man" in our lives. Our parents became friends, despite their differences. Your house became my second home. You saw me through every break up I ever had. It was just a given that we would have a slumber party to help me through it. Sleeping head to feet was our thing, why bother sleeping in separate beds. Your 15's came around. I felt like I planned them with you. We had a slumber party that night and stayed up til 4, so rebellious. At that point if we didn't see each other every day it was strange. I was dropped off at your house every morning in my pj's to get ready for school. Your mom grounded me when I came home too late from a date. It was as if we were sisters. We were a part of each others families.

At school we were a packaged deal. Everyone knew us as J and L, not J or L. J AND L. Senior year, things started to change. We began to drift apart. I am not sure what caused it. But I felt the animosity you tried to hide from me whenever we did spend time together. You were upset that I wasn't dedicating so much time to you. College came around and things really took a downward turn. You made a new friend. Someone that I didn't like. I went to school far away. Then I moved out of my parents house. And you couldn't be bothered to come see me. I lived too far. You got engaged, married. I walked your wedding, but it seemed forced. Like I was there because its what we envisioned as children not because it was what you wanted.

November 2005

Then my wedding came around. You were a bridesmaid and to this day I am not sure why you accepted. You left early. You had a concert to go to. After that day we've seen each other a handful of times. The last time I saw you was in August. We had dinner with all of our friends. I walked into a room of married couples and babies. I felt out of place. You made it a point to ignore me. We are different people now I know that. The one time we spoke all evening was to talk about your nephew, he always brought us together, its good to know at least that hasn't changed. You showed me pictures of the man he's become. I was so happy to see him.

Looking back I wonder what we had in common. I imagine I would find it hard to have a conversation with you now. You've always been close minded in that you can only be bothered by things that directly affect you. I guess I always knew that but I never wanted to believe it. Now that there is distance between us it is abundantly clear. Our worlds are very different. Your a teacher, a wife, aunt, and now mother. You didn't tell me you had had the baby, no pictures, nothing. I only found out your were pregnant when I saw you that night in August. I found out you had a beautiful baby boy when your mom ran into mine at the grocery store.

I know I should pick up the phone to call you, try to set a date with you and meet your son. Be the bigger person. But I am not sure I care to. And that, well that makes me sad. Out of all the people who have come and gone in my life, I figured you would be one of the ones who would always be there. I never thought you and I would be out of touch. This bothers me, you, well I don't think you give a damn.

Sincerely,
Jossie

Easy as pie

Nick, Marisol and I have a group therapy session pretty regularly where we discuss what is wrong with us. This discussion usually has a special focus on how it relates to us and men. We find that we all pretty much have the same issues. Maybe its because we spend all of our time together, who knows. After careful consideration, we finally put together this pie chart that we feel adequately depicts our issues (the original is prominently displayed on my dry erase board at work as seen below)...thoughts?

My snowy melted heart

It was as if we had this unspoken understanding that this weekend would be for us. We couldn't get enough of each other. Texts, e-mails, phone calls, even photos to make sure to see what was going on. I smiled a lot this weekend. He made me laugh a lot and then on Sunday....he built me a snowman.

He had said on Saturday night that snow was in the forecast for the next day but he had his doubts. I was jealous at the mere idea of it snowing and him getting to play in it. So I asked him to please take pictures of it for me. I didn't think he would.

I was doing groceries Sunday afternoon and I get an e-mail. It had a photo of him looking too cute for words outside with the snow falling on his face, he remembered. Not only did he remember but he was going that extra mile, he texted me saying "I'm building you're ass a snowman" I laughed like a silly school girl, he had to be joking.

I went for my walk that afternoon while talking to him. I don't even remember what we covered, it never matters with him. Its always a good time. I checked my e-mail as soon as I got back to my apartment and my insides turned to mush...


Who would have thought that all it would take was someone building me a snowman.

And you doubted me...

I told you I had been felt up by a demon last weekend. Tsk, tsk, maybe next time you'll believe me when I say crazy shit like that.

He was behaving at this point

And then he got a tad frisky with Carlos.