july 15, 2003.
I'm in love with my new bra. It's black and solid and supportive without pinching. It's big enough to fit comfortably around my Big Back without leaving angry red marks from the underwire at the end of the day. Our apartment's been getting hotter and hotter, and I am now the picture of low-class indolence lounging around in my comfy, comfy underwear. Thrill.
Last night the Boy & I went to the Dance Cave to give Stacy some end-of-the-relationship face-to-face sympathy and take part in cathartic dancing. In a moment of foolishness, I'd invited Dirk as well, not thinking about how hard it would be for Stacy to open up in front of her next-to-last boyfriend. (This is a personality flaw that I'm working on.) So part way through the night she & I went down the block for a quiet juice. The conversation we had is frankly none of your business, but lest you feel left out, it isn't anyone else's business either. Even the Boy didn't get a second-hand report, and it is greatly to his credit that he's not the kind of boy to ask.
Still. I never thought it would be so hard to be the person in a stable relationship.
Sometimes I feel vaguely guilty that my life is going well.- stacy, "guilty reflex", written shortly after the boy dumped me.
When we got back to the Cave, our table was suddenly overflowing with Ian, Fast Eddie & a host of their friends, not to mention a tonne of beer. There was much touching of the Belly, as well as promises to babysit and guilt-trips about party invitations. We all bounced around laughing until 1:30, when the old folks had to drag themselves home.
"It takes a special kind of guy to hit on a pregnant woman in front of her husband." - fast eddie.
There was also some patented Dance Cave Drama when we arrived, which always adds spice to the club. The Boy & I were late because - get this - all my makeup melted after a hot summer week in the car (whoulda thought?), and by the time we sailed in the door, Stacy had been stuck talking to Jeff R. for a half an hour. Now Jeff is the guy who never remembers my name and parlayed my last attempt to introduce myself into an excuse to insult my sister. Last night he buttonholed Stacy into a long discussion of this Aleta girl who was so judgemental and insulting based on first impressions. (The best part was that he STILL didn't know who I was; he actually asked Stacy to point me out to him!!) Stacy started by examining his premises, stating that I was very friendly and had in fact met him many times. When he continued to deflect & insult, she was pushed beyond endurance.
"Aleta's one of my best friends. I value her opinion more than I value yours."
When she said that, he deflated like a tire.
The whole thing filled me with the kind of gleeful spite that is unfortunately one of my character notes. For the rest of the night I snarled when I passed his table and had many thoughts about "tripping" with a full glass of water. The only claim I have to decency is that I didn't do any of those things.
Fuck. I just spilled bleach all over the bathroom floor. I was using it on our skanky toilet, and had oh-so-cleverly balanced it on the bathtub edge. There isn't even a funny reason why it ended in disaster: just the sound of the jug hitting the floor and the feeling of the bleach washing around my feet. Our green chenille bathmat - bought to match a shower curtain that succumbed to mould a few months ago - blooms a sickly, Chernobyl orange. We were damn lucky that this was the only cloth on the floor - just five minutes before it all happened, I had carted an armload of slinky black clothing to the bedroom.
What makes it all worse is that I couldn't even clean it up. The Boy hustled me out immediately, concerned about fumes. I can't say that I look forward to cleaning up bleach spills, but I do like to take care of my own messes.
Sigh. It smells like a swimming pool in there. All dimly lit & watery & chemical.
Booty Call: Day 130 - If your baby is a girl her uterus is formed, and development of vagina has begun. Your baby's skin is coated with a cheesy substance, vernix, which protects against chapping, abrasions and hardening.
