Thursday, June 12, 2008

It's the little things that get you.

Today the local newspaper food critic reviewed a restaurant I went to several times with New Guy (and never with anybody else, so I have no memories of the place separate from him). Don't mention the cajun chicken, don't mention the cajun chicken--too late. Sigh.

We've been rehearsing for our upcoming charity gig, and, since the rest of the band lives on the opposite side of town from me (actually, two of them live so far on the opposite side, they're actually in different towns), I've been driving out there for rehearsals. No biggie, right? I hate that highway, that whole side of town, actually...but it's just a few times. What's the big deal? (Other than $3.79 per gallon for gas, but whatever.) Well, the deal is...this is the highway I always took to New Guy's place. I've been on that highway more in the last few months than I have the 20 years I've lived here...but only to go see him. Now whenever I pass "his" exit, it's like somebody has just punched me in the stomach. If the guys have noticed my damp eyes when I arrive at rehearsals, they've been too nice to mention it. Sigh.

I pull my trashbin out to the curb for pickup, and I remember that, on our last evening together, he insisted on being a gentleman, and pulling it out for me. Sigh.

Silly, silly little things. And yet they stab me in the heart. It's getting easier, mostly--I mean...I'm not crying every day anymore. And there are plenty of times I think of him and smile...but it's the little things. Sigh.

And now, simply to avoid ending this post on such a somber note, I will share with you that I DID take my "Nensa" card out and wave it around last night at rehearsal. I was kidding, of course, and my band boys just laughed. And swore that merely touching the card raised their own IQs a couple of points. (Hee.) But I would also like to state for the record that, re: whether or not the chords they were playing at one point of one song were WRONG, that I was right. They were wrong. Of course, that has little to do with IQ, and more to do with the fact that I have good ears AND more familiarity with that particular song, but still. I WAS RIGHT. I'm just sayin'.

9 comments:

3carnations said...

$3.79/gallon gas? I'll take it. Ours is $4.12.

Have you had contact with New Guy at all?

lizgwiz said...

3car, yes...we've talked on the phone several times. He's super-busy with the kids, and visiting his parents, so we don't talk for very long, but we talk.

nancypearlwannabe said...

$3.79! That sounds delightful. Ours just went up to $4.15. How am I supposed to get to work?!

gorillabuns said...

Couldn't he have been a jerk and left the trash can at the curb? or better yet, kicked it?

i'm sorry.

Stinkypaw said...

It's always the little things that get to us...Hang in there, it will get better.

I remembered when you wrote that you weren't happy the NG had rented a place on the "wrong" side of town... seems like ages ago!

L Sass said...

I hate that stuff. The little reminders always seem to hurt the most! Hang in there.

Sauntering Soul said...

The gas station by my house is at $4.19. Living in the city sucks. I try to get gas when I drive a little outside the city limits to visit someone. Then it's only $3.99.

I'm sorry about the little things. Those are always what get me too. There are many restaurants I'm going to have to avoid while Hot Brazilian is out of the country temporarily. Hugs to you.

lizgwiz said...

npw, I know! I wish Tulsa had a decent mass transit system. Though I only have about a 10-minute drive to work, thankfully, so it probably wouldn't be worth it.

gorillabuns, oh no...he had to be all sweet and nice. If he really cared about me, he'd have done me the favor of pissing me off!

stinky, that does seem like a long time ago, doesn't it? Sigh.

sass, yeah, it's weird what connections our brains make.

ss, hugs back! Maybe you can use the time while he's gone to do some fabulous paintings, which you can sell to pay your gas bill!

Stefanie said...

Indeed, it's the little things. I've always hated that whole philosophy of "don't sweat the small stuff," because all of life is small stuff. It's the little things that make up your day and make you smile or drive you insane. The big stuff is easier to manage because, well, it's BIG. I could elaborate on this theory of mine, but it would be a very long comment and it's perhaps only marginally related to your current state anyway. Suffice it to say, I get it, and I wish I had some tips for dissociating those things. Hang in there, my friend.