Thursday, May 29, 2003
funny: someone found this page by googling, "super bladder."
not funny: man. i said something too early. it wasn't some big, "hey, think you're gonna marry me?" bullshit--even i know better than that, and i'm not sure i'd really want to hear the answer right now--but i got very excited about some math i did, math that proved it was possible for me to own property, even in manhattan.
i mean somewhere to live. which, given the circumstances, means somewhere for *us* to live. and even though i know general theory holds that now would not be the time for me to say anything remotely like, "hey, honey, wanna go house-hunting?" . . . that's NOT what i meant.
(i meant, you know, hey. i might be able to do this thing. wouldn't that be great for me? would you be excited about it, too? would you want to come along for the ride?)
it came out anyway because of how great i think the monkey is and how permanent i consider him to be, even though it's not the time for certain kinds of promises, i guess, or mutual investments of large sums of money.
(which isn't what i meant, either--not, "mutual investment." i meant me, mine, my responsibility. if it were a question of co-mingling, i would have been freaked out and not ready, too. i meant me, mine, my project, and would you like to come live in it with me and move out whenever you want which i hope is never?)
oh, groan. and i don't know how much of my sadness now is that i couldn't keep a lid on it even though i know saying something was risky, and i let myself in for disappointment . . . and how much of it is the actual disappointment that the response wasn't:
great. yes. yep. that's fabulous and i'm not scared even though that proposition skirts the outsides of some issues particularly fearsome to recently divorced guys. great, yes, yep, and i'm not scared even though i should be because how much i love you breaks all the rules about when what happens and what's okay to say. we are so good we're not subject to the timeline.
i guess we are subject to it. and that's fine and normal--and probably safer and smarter. all that good stuff. and this is minor, this reminder that there's a speed limit. sigh.
dumb, dumb, dumb.
but i wish we *were above it. rather: i wish you thought we were, too.
not funny: man. i said something too early. it wasn't some big, "hey, think you're gonna marry me?" bullshit--even i know better than that, and i'm not sure i'd really want to hear the answer right now--but i got very excited about some math i did, math that proved it was possible for me to own property, even in manhattan.
i mean somewhere to live. which, given the circumstances, means somewhere for *us* to live. and even though i know general theory holds that now would not be the time for me to say anything remotely like, "hey, honey, wanna go house-hunting?" . . . that's NOT what i meant.
(i meant, you know, hey. i might be able to do this thing. wouldn't that be great for me? would you be excited about it, too? would you want to come along for the ride?)
it came out anyway because of how great i think the monkey is and how permanent i consider him to be, even though it's not the time for certain kinds of promises, i guess, or mutual investments of large sums of money.
(which isn't what i meant, either--not, "mutual investment." i meant me, mine, my responsibility. if it were a question of co-mingling, i would have been freaked out and not ready, too. i meant me, mine, my project, and would you like to come live in it with me and move out whenever you want which i hope is never?)
oh, groan. and i don't know how much of my sadness now is that i couldn't keep a lid on it even though i know saying something was risky, and i let myself in for disappointment . . . and how much of it is the actual disappointment that the response wasn't:
great. yes. yep. that's fabulous and i'm not scared even though that proposition skirts the outsides of some issues particularly fearsome to recently divorced guys. great, yes, yep, and i'm not scared even though i should be because how much i love you breaks all the rules about when what happens and what's okay to say. we are so good we're not subject to the timeline.
i guess we are subject to it. and that's fine and normal--and probably safer and smarter. all that good stuff. and this is minor, this reminder that there's a speed limit. sigh.
dumb, dumb, dumb.
but i wish we *were above it. rather: i wish you thought we were, too.
