Chicago, Dude

A woman came to my department seeking to have her engagement ring sized. Now, I get this often and usually the woman is happy, excited, and can’t wait to get the ring sized and on her finger. Not this one.

She accepted her proposal some three months ago and now, after much pressure from the future husband, she was getting the ring sized. I asked her why she waited so long and she replied, “Look at it.” And I did.

It was ugly.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked.

What do you do?

I was married once but I got married the old fashioned way. I got her pregnant. So, I have no engagement experience. I’ve seen engagements at basketball games and on television. I’ve heard from friends about their “crazy” engagements and I watched a friend of mine make her man propose to her. But in every situation, one thing was always right, the ring.

I saw Sex and the City, Season 4, Episode 60 when Aidan bought Carrie that bad ring, so I know that men buy bad rings. (And obviously, this particular guy didn’t see episode 60)

But what is a girl supposed to do?

This particular girl, despite hating the ring, accepted the engagement and the ring and then spent three months battling with her love for her man, her desire not to hurt his feelings, and the presence of a hideous ring. In my book, this makes her a caring, loving, b*tch.

I mean, he’s a man. He’s supposed to be able to control his feelings. And either way his feelings are going to get hurt. And what hurts more? Finding out the ring you bought sucks or finding out the woman you are going to marry lied to you and said she likes the ring when she doesn’t.

And, seriously, what kind of man buys an engagement ring for a woman without consulting her? That’s just stupid. With all the cuts, settings, metals, sizes of fingers and personal insanity that goes along with getting married, it’s just a stupid move to go commando with the engagement ring.

But I digress.

This girl chose to keep the ring and not hurt his feelings. So, for the next year the symbol of her new life will be an ugly engagement ring that she must look at daily; show her friends who will also see the ugliness, and worst, smile every time the ring or the engagement is mentioned.

I wished her good luck.

A woman came to my department seeking to have her engagement ring sized. Now, I get this often and usually the woman is happy, excited, and can’t wait to get the ring sized and on her finger. Not this one.

She accepted her proposal some three months ago and now, after much pressure from the future husband, she was getting the ring sized. I asked her why she waited so long and she replied, “Look at it.” And I did.

It was ugly.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked.

What do you do?

I was married once but I got married the old fashioned way. I got her pregnant. So, I have no engagement experience. I’ve seen engagements at basketball games and on television. I’ve heard from friends about their “crazy” engagements and I watched a friend of mine make her man propose to her. But in every situation, one thing was always right, the ring.

I saw Sex and the City, Season 4, Episode 60 when Aidan bought Carrie that bad ring, so I know that men buy bad rings. (And obviously, this particular guy didn’t see episode 60)

But what is a girl supposed to do?

This particular girl, despite hating the ring, accepted the engagement and the ring and then spent three months battling with her love for her man, her desire not to hurt his feelings, and the presence of a hideous ring. In my book, this makes her a caring, loving, b*tch.

I mean, he’s a man. He’s supposed to be able to control his feelings. And either way his feelings are going to get hurt. And what hurts more? Finding out the ring you bought sucks or finding out the woman you are going to marry lied to you and said she likes the ring when she doesn’t.

And, seriously, what kind of man buys an engagement ring for a woman without consulting her? That’s just stupid. With all the cuts, settings, metals, sizes of fingers and personal insanity that goes along with getting married, it’s just a stupid move to go commando with the engagement ring.

But I digress.

This girl chose to keep the ring and not hurt his feelings. So, for the next year the symbol of her new life will be an ugly engagement ring that she must look at daily; show her friends who will also see the ugliness, and worst, smile every time the ring or the engagement is mentioned.

I wished her good luck.

I told her that I wasn’t going to talk to her until yoga and now I’m being kept awake by thoughts of her. I am so in love with her that I can’t stay away though I must. Claude says that for personal freedom, I must be willing to hurt feelings. I have to resist the urge to call or text. I must not answer her calls or reply to texts. I can’t e-mail her or respond to her e-mails. Do I even read them?

This seems like such a painful endeavor. I used to claim that I could walk away in 30 seconds or less. I used to be able to. Not this time.

Of course, it’s the love. It’s the longing. It’s the void that is left from her absence. This one is going to take more time. More time than I want to spend hurting and healing.

Man, this sucks.

Time heals all wounds. At least that’s the rumor.

So, my time begins. I’m not exactly sure how easy this going to be. Actually, I know that it’s not going to be easy at all. I know I will pace back and forth with my phone in my hand thinking of something worth texting knowing there is nothing worth texting.

I’ll check my e-mail twenty times a day, hoping she doesn’t e-mail. Or worse, hoping that she does.

I will write countless unsent e-mails and it will take everything in me not to send.

Question is will I be able to stop talking about her?

Will I be able to stop thinking about her?

Will I ever not be in love with her?

Only time will tell.

There it is again.

Time.

Okay, the truth is I AM BETTER THAN YOU.

Look, all of us are born equal, but we do not all live equal. Am I a man like you are a man? Yes. Do you have what I have and I have what you have? Yes.

So, what makes me better than you?

Well, first we must define Better?

1. of superior quality or excellence: a better coat; a better speech.
2. Morally superior; more virtuous: They are no better than thieves.
3. of superior suitability, advisability, desirability, acceptableness, etc.; preferable: a better time for action.
4. Larger; greater: the better part of a lifetime.
5. improved in health; healthier than before.
6. Completely recovered in health.

Now when I say better, I am referring to definitions 1, 2, & possibly 3.

Now, I, by no means, think that being better than you gives me the right to not treat you like an equal. To do so would actually make us equal.

And we’re not equal.

I’m better than you.

Abraham Lincoln said that he tells the truth because it’s less for him to remember.

I listen to people when they talk to me and I always assume that they are telling the truth? Why? Because to assume they are lying sends me in a spiral of alternate possibilities of which I will never neither know nor ever be able to prove. The search for proof turns me into a detective and a sneak two things I would rather never be.

So, I assume you are telling the truth. But the liar never remembers. And in the second and third conversation about the instant in question the story changes and pieces of the truth leaks out. That’s when I know you’re lying. Because I listen.

But the process is painful. The discovery that a lie was in fact told. The piecing together of the half truths told leads to the whole truth which is formulated by assumptions and can never be confirmed because confirmation must come from the originator of the fib.

The liar.

It’s a dirty game.

I’d rather you never talk to me than to lie to me.

I hate the lies.

So, I signed up for a blog account because I thought it would be a good idea to blog. You know drain the brain. Anyone, who knows me, knows that I need to get as much out of head as possible.

So, I have this account and I got the t-shirt and the magnet for the fridge, but I totally slacked up on my blogging. So, slack that I received an e-mail that stated I have been shut down for lack of commitment.

Commitment.

I guess I didn’t really think of the commitment involved in signing up for a blog account. Then I got to thinking about how much I think about the commitment involved whenever I sign up for anything. I have a bass guitar collecting dust. A Brazilian drum I haven’t beaten in a long time. At least three book projects I’ve begun. And of course, there are my children.

I’ve started a lot of stuff I need to finish.