when looking ahead, look back.

Last night I sat in my room watching Come September. I realized, in watching the end and how things really do work out in the long run, that that’s not really just a concept created by the cinema nay a fabrication designed by writers, but the truth.

A couple of nights earlier I sat and finished watching a borrowed copy of the movie Playing by Heart. It had taken me awhile to get into it but once I did I found it interestingly addictive. There is a line towards the end of the movie, a line I couldn’t seem to find to quote, that describes the truest of relationships as that which brings out the best in us, the good within. And that’s the part of me I want to see myself. That’s the part of me I’m often fighting. That’s the part that I realize only one person seems to bring out.

So if things really do work out best in the end and relationships – even with friends – only truly work and survive if they’re bringing out the best in us, individually, then why do I just not feel this overwhelming sense of relief? Or of clarity?

Maybe it’s because I am realizing that the end is not near and my friends? I hate to say it but they’re really not always all that. I mean, don’t get my wrong. I have some really wonderful friends. But they have other things going on – other lives that include boyfriends and different cities – and I’m not really something they’re too concerned about losing, or just in general.

Friday night I have a surprise birthday party to go to for McHottie, thrown by his wife and brother. And I’ve really been looking forward to it. It’s at a farmhouse in the country. They’re having a band and a pig pickin’. And it should be a lot of fun, especially considering that the weather here has been wonderful lately.

Friday night I have a party to go to and nobody to go with me. And I’ve asked. Really, I have. But I didn’t realize fully until today, this afternoon, at work, how upset about it I really am. The thing is I don’t want to go by myself. I understand that people go places by themselves all the time. I understand it because I do; I go to people’s houses for parties by myself. I’m actually pretty brave about that whole thing and pretty over needing an “escort” to go out. But this party? This night? I really didn’t want to do it.

First, McHottie’s brother (Otter) will be there. The same brother that has kissed me.

Second, MJ will be there. And probably with his girlfriend. And that idea alone makes me uncomfortable. It’s not because he’s not just a friend. It is, however, because he has said things to me that make me uncomfortable to be around his girlfriend. It is the plain and simple concept of you not discussing your disinterest with who you are with with other people, particularly of the opposite sex. And, even more, of you complaining about your status quo and not doing anything about it. It’s about respect.

And thirdly, other than McHottie’s wife, whom I adore, and his mother, I will know no females. I know his guy friends, but not their wives and girlfriends. And that can be, you know, uncomfortable. I don’t want to be that girl.

I don’t want to be that girl that couldn’t find a girl friend to be her wing-person.

But I guess that’s who I am.

And so Saturday, itself, was already looking up to be a better day than the stresses of Friday night. Saturday I had planned on two of my good friends to come into town from different towns, respectively, to come stay with me. One was coming from Greenville for a much needed break from her live-in boyfriend. Another was coming from Charleston. And each, separately, have since cancelled. Leaving me, again, alone. Any old day? No problem. St. Patrick’s Day in 5 points? Yea, that sucks.

Last year I had the worst St. Patrick’s Day I could have imagined. I didn’t write much about it and I told, maybe, just a few friends. But the shock of it all, the fight, the disappointment, and everything else combined made it difficult to recreate. It made it difficult for any future St. Patrick’s Day to be worse. Is loneliness worse?

restlessness.

Sometime [a week or so ago] it occurred to me that I was missing something. It was the first time I really missed it. It was the first time I knew I wanted to be in anybody’s bed but my bed, with anybody but myself. It’s those times, right when you’re trying to go to sleep, that the days flood back to you and you don’t want to be alone. You want to be grown up. You want to be adult. You want something that’s familiar. To you.

I’ve been having the weirdest dreams lately. And it’s all either in the depths of my slumber or just as I’m arousing, so much unsettling me that I cannot decide which path to choose as the morning light begins breaking through my windows. Do I stay asleep and wait and see what happens or do I wake – do I wake and free myself?

Last night I dreamt that I was watching a football game with McHottie’s family and friends. We were all in different sleeping bags, El Boss was there, MJ and Ed, each in our own sleeping bags, piled side by side, watching the game. At half time we all got up, moved around a little. I found myself in the kitchen with all the grown up women, doing who knows what.

There was no ending to the game we were watching, no explanation to how we ended up at my house. But we were there. Suddenly. And it was light out.. kind of like that mid-Saturday morning light that’s fun and brunch-like. The crowd had slimmed down. Folks were milling around. And suddenly MJ and I were there, in the kitchen, alone. And it was.. normal. It was so strange. It was then, after some time of us staying there, acting as though what we were doing was familiar, that I pulled myself out of bed and jumped in the shower to get myself ready for work.

"the unexamined life is not worth living." socrates.

I came back to work a few days over Spring Break my senior year in college in 2006. It feels like yesterday. But it sometimes seems like the year ago it was. In many ways it was also a lifetime ago. There I met McHottie. He had started a few months prior, after I’d left to go back to school from Christmas break. He’s charming and southern and all that. He quickly, once I graduated from college, became a close friend, a brother of sorts. He’s my advice giver. He’s my friend. He makes me laugh. Usually.

Yesterday, he found humor in my defeat. Yesterday, he came to find me in the Accounting Department, telling me the guys were looking for me. I came around to our department and nobody said they’d been. I came into my office and he’d put toilet paper in my trash can and tossed my phone on top of that. Is that funny? Making a make-shift portajohn to make fun of me. Hm. My mom sure thought so. I’m still too frustrated about everything to find humor. I don’t like being made fun of.

McHottie, despite all this, has seen me through a lot of things.

He’s seen me through Mr. Beat who he thought wasn’t rough and tumble enough. That’s putting it nicely. He saw me on the other side of that and he offered me words of comfort, of “his loss” sorts of things.

He saw me through Good Lookin’ who he didn’t think was intellectual enough. Those were his words, indeed. I think in many ways he helped me weed away from that affection. I saw Good Lookin’ Saturday night and there was nothing there at all, as I preferred to be inside the bar taking shots rather than making more small talk.

He’s watched me with MJ who on any number of levels he has advised me to stay away from. And I have, as he’s not exactly my type anyway. But he’s seen the way we interact and he’s joked about our tete a tetes.

And he’s brought up this thing with his brother. First, being that he should set us up but wasn’t sure as he thought it might be incestuous. Next, asking me a month ago if I thought his brother was cute. When I said, “Yea..”, he said, “Well maybe he thinks you’re cute too and I should set y’all up.” And now, with me making a harmless joke about his brother kissing me sparking something wild. He flat out doesn’t think I should have told my work mama. I flat out don’t think it matters.

And that’s where we’re now.

none the wiser.

This is the way it was. This is the way I remembered it, at least.

Last week was a blur of working late, strings of frustrations, sleepless nights, stress induced headaches, and fights with McHottie. All of this culminated into a successful Saturday night of fundraising, meanwhile the events which both preceded and followed the gala continue to provide entertainment.

The roommate called me at work Friday. “Do you want to go for a mani/pedi today?” She read my mind and I told her so.

I didn’t leave the office til 6 – McHottie and I sat in silence for nearly an hour trying to think up everything we could possibly forget to think of for the following night.

Saturday started around 10:30 am at the site of our event. Not too shabby. An hour and a half or so into it, McHottie and I decided to head to Wild Wings to watch “the game.” Yea.. Clemson did fantastic. Of course.

A few beers, some wings, and a celebratory jager bomb later, we headed back to do the final bit of preparation before everything came to head. This is, after all, our baby – everything we’ve been working on for months culminating into one night.

And apparently – thankfully, blessedly – it all went off with a bang.. although I did not enjoy it (stresses mounted) whilst I learned everyone else did.

So, a few unrelated hitches along the way. Hitches, of course, being a term I use very loosely and meanwhile, very pointedly.

One of my coworkers brought a guy there to meet me. To meet me!? Yep. Blind Date Guy came on out. Truthfully, he was cute. He seemed nice. I hear he’s a romantic. Hm.

Sitting at the registration table for a bit, a guy came up to me to check in. As I looked up – so the story is told – no words came out. None. No kidding. Wow. But, to give myself the benefit of the doubt, he said nothing either. I can’t help it if we were both staring at each other.. Work Mama said she almost had to tell me to roll my tongue back in my mouth. Ooh baby.

Did I mention MJ was there? Oh but I will.

I stayed around for some time, making sure everything had been picked up, everybody was cleared out, (the after party destination had been secured). Yes, we headed back to Wild Wings. As I pulled in, I checked my voicemail and had a message from Blind Date Guy telling me they’d gone to WW but didn’t like the “crowd” and so had gone back to Camden. I called MJ (safety net here, people) to find out for sure where they were (they being McHottie’s friends). They met me at the door.

Looking around it soon became evident that the crowd of folks that had said they’d be headed there had either not made it or already bailed over the time we’d spent lagging behind shooting my boss’ new shotgun in the empty lot next to our venue or downing a beer from a cooler in the back kitchen. Glancing around at MJ, McHottie’s brother Otter, and Ed, I simply said, “This’ll atleast get me 3 beers, right?”

What followed was surely a sight to be seen with the 4 or us.

What shall I confess to?

MJ told me, without hesitation, that if I just told him I wanted him to, I’d be there, he’d break up with his girlfriend. When I spoke he said it wasn’t fair to judge him on that relationship and that he met me after they were together. And when I said that no one should ever, under any circumstances, be in a relationship they don’t want to be in, he looked at me and said, “Well thanks for letting me know how you feel.” It was then I realized he didn’t understand I was talking about his current relationship and not the relationship between us that he seems to think has potential. Side note: Nothing has ever happened between us – it just seems to be entertaining to me, the way one guy in a full on “relationship” can act. I also don’t like to be rude to people, and I do enjoy MJ’s company.. so it’s kind of a tough situation.

While I scooted around Wild Wings, swaying to the music, dancing with Ed (GOOD dancer!) and catching up with some friends from high school that were out, there was also Otter. And he’s a mess. McHottie once told me that he wanted to set us up but it might be too incestuous. Funny since McHottie and I are not actually brother and sister. We just tend to act like it. While I was trying to keep MJ from being pouty and overly sensitive, I was also quite taken with entertainment for Otter. The same brother that later kissed me in the parking lot.

you shoot, you score.

There’s no denying he’s got good lines.

Last night after work, McHottie and I went out for a couple of beers and met MJ there. Me and the guys.

When we were leaving, we were crossing the street towards McHottie’s car and I could hear MJ saying, “I think that’s her. Yea, pretty sure that’s her..”

I went to hop into the truck and next thing you know, MJ’s not coming to get in. No.. he’s knocking on the window. I guess when I answered McHottie’s question about where MJ had gone with, “I think he’s talking to his girlfriend,” he didn’t realize I meant.. in person.

So MJ had to stay.

And yea.. he really has a girlfriend. McHottie had told me of his propensity for having girlfriends a plenty.. or maybe more so for ignoring the title “boyfriend.” So it’s always kind of been a joke for me. And when MJ didn’t get in the car, McHottie made some comment about that situation being “really weird.” That, itself, is weird to me.

Although, I’m the one that got the midnight text message from MJ that read, “Get out of my head at least for a minute.”

This time, though, I listened to McHottie and didn’t respond. Even if I only do so for my own entertainment. I did, after all, tell him his advice thus far has been worth taking. So I might as well take it for once, huh?

It is, maybe, just a little bit funny still.

puzzle me this.

After work last week, we went to grab a drink. I ran home and picked up the roommate and McHottie and the boys met us at Tsunami.

When MJ walked in, I knew it might feel strange. We hadn’t talked, much less seen each other in some time. He can be a different kind of fella. Quirky, random, Southern. And when I say that I mean it in the purest way. The way that I’m Southern, he’s Southern. He’s the epitome of all those boys I went to college with. He’s Calhoun County at it’s finest.

And he didn’t say much more than a word to me.

The roommate and I headed home. I’d been gone since the day before, out of town on business, and she wanted to get home to make some dinner. As soon as I got back to the house, he sent me a message saying, “Can’t believe you left..”

Really?

Well it came pretty easily to say, “How come? You didn’t speak to me and I spent all day with McHottie so I don’t need to see him any more.”

“I didn’t come to speak with Y’ALL,” he said.

And the sequence from him that followed went such as this..

“Don’t hurry back out.”

“What do you want me to beg?”

“I was just hoping.”

So I offered an, “I don’t think so.”

To which I got a, “Surprise.” Surprise.

And then a.. “Just cause you’re scared.”

Isn’t this getting good?

“The opportunity is here.”

“Come back.”

Um.. I’m thinking, “No.”

“I am trying. Come back.”

Yea.. and I didn’t.

McHottie’s advice the next day? (He is, after all, my Yoda.) “Don’t respond anymore.” “But he’s your friend,” I offered, hoping to express my habit of remaining friends with my friends’ friends. [Whew, that's confusing.] “I don’t care. Ignore it from now on.” “Really?” “Really,” he said.

Guys are so strange, I tell ya.

the crying of lot..

“Sitting in Tiger Town Tavern. Wishing you were here.”

It kind of made my day. I’m not gonna lie. He sent it late Friday night, but when I woke up to it Saturday morning, I had a smile ear to ear.

I wish I was there too.

Not there, per say. But Tiger Town Tavern. You betcha. Clemson. In a heartbeat.

There’s something about knowing, thinking, believing, that someone wishes you around them.. that.. even in the most dire of circumstances.. sends you spinning. It’s like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail when she remembers twirling with her mother in The Shop Around the Corner. It makes you float. And even though McHottie has told me over and over again how MJ’s not right for me, reading his words, made me feel like something was right. Maybe not him. Maybe not the circumstances. But what was right is that somebody, for once, let me know something about me.

And that’s all I need.

I sat around the house painting on Sunday, and for a long time thinking about all the things McHottie has said to me.. his words about who’s not right for me, who’s not “good enough” for me, who’s not intellectual enough (believe it) for me. I laughed when he said it all in context. I laughed because even my real brothers wouldn’t say it. They’d say “gross” or “no way” or “not on my watch.” But they wouldn’t give me words. No explanations. They’d announce to their entire fraternity before I entered college that no one was to get anywhere near me. They’d watch as I’d enter a frat party with all the girls from my freshman hall, and as each guy met them they hugged them and complimented them, and when I came through they stuck out there hands for a quick shake and off they went.

That does remarkable things for an ego.

So for McHottie to say such things for me.. provide explanations.. it’s hard to grasp.. it’s hard to take it all in. My friends say I just think too much. I’m so stubborn. I’m so incapable of listening because I feel like I’ve been through it all before, seen it or read it. And I have. They can’t argue that. But I won’t believe when someone likes me. I’ll more than readily believe a cow jumped over the moon. And so I don’t believe what McHottie tells me.

Until yesterday. Yesterday I put it all together. And maybe he’s right. He’s been right so far. So I guess I have to stay away from MJ too. Are they all bad?

abracadabra.

Last night, as I was helping a friend move some furniture into her apartment, I received word from McHottie.

McH: “I am so sorry.”

Me: “What did you do?”

McH: “You’ll see.”

Me: “Tell me.”

McH: “Uh uh.”

Me: “I will hurt you.”

Yea.. apparently I resort to violence. But when a coworker and confidant apologizes to you for no reason.. you just kind of.. start to see the cracks everywhere and wonder what in the world they could have done.

So maybe I was overreacting.

Maybe.

About an hour later and after receiving no response back from McHottie, I get a phone call from his friend MJ. And, as I actually did “miss” the call, I subsequently got a voicemail.

“Hey miss.. I hope you are screening my call because you do not realize who is calling. That’s what I’m hoping. But anyway, this is MJ. It is Wednesday evening. And if you get the urge to call back.. call me back. Talk to you later. Bye.”

Being that I was out for drinks, I did not call him back. And about an hour later, I received a message from him that said, “You can’t return my call?”

So I called.. and rambled something like “who’s screening who’s calls now” in my message. When he returned that call, I was asleep. There appears to be a certain window of time in which you can catch me in. I’m not so much of a telephone person. (Hence why I choose to hide behind a computer screen all the time.) I think it has to do with my rather large fear of social awkwardness.

So McHottie rolls into work this morning and won’t come more than 20 feet of me. (I take it he took seriously my threat.) It appears MJ called him, at home last night, asking specifically for my number. And what is interesting is that I had already told McHottie, explicitly, that he was not allowed to give out my number. This is not the first time. (Hence his apologies.)

Have I mentioned MJ before? A friend of McHottie’s from college, I first met him at Cup but don’t recall that. And I was, allegedly, a legend well before then.. as I had worked with McHottie at that point for an entire year and he had spoken frequently of me to MJ. I use the term “allegedly” very pointedly as, from what MJ has said, it is very difficult to believe all. But, what has been told of me must far exceed me. I have seen MJ a number of times since. Once, at a cocktail reception at work, he sent McHottie a message that said “Kristin better not be there.” I suppose it doesn’t occur to him that McHottie sees me every day.

He [MJ] also helped bring a dance off to life at a party we went to in June.. consisting of me dancing with Good Lookin’ and then MJ asking me to dance in the in-between times. All the while saying to me, “Is that your boy? Who’s your boy? You need to go back to your boy?”

Last I checked I don’t have a boy.. anything.

Anyway, entertaining it is.. I dare say. Somethin’ to talk about, I admit.

step one.

I spent last Thursday night on the dance floor with a guy I like and with a guy who likes me. Whether or not they’re the same person, I do not know.

What’s protocol for that sort of thing?