Vanilla Pride... And Prejudice

My work friend A. found a new job, and today she gave notice early, and was sent home by 9 AM. I’m really sad, and not only because it’s so quiet here, now. She and I kind of depended on one another for support, and she gets to start over. I’m still stuck here, though, which sucks. I’m glad for her, but damn… This makes it that much harder to come to work in the morning. On the upside, Aries and I are having dinner again this evening. I’m teaching her to make fat-free cream of asparagus soup w/vegetarian stock, and marinated, pan-seared salmon with orange-dill sour cream. Paired with a nice white Bordeaux, I may just be able to forget about all this bullshit for the evening. Here’s hoping, anyway…

Orpheus and I seem to be at an impasse, but he doesn’t see it yet. He reacts to this situation by attempting to change something (anything,) about our diet and (lack of) physical activity level… Maybe it will help to jump-start things. I certainly hope so. But I’m not sure. Something feels very sunset about us right now. Hell, maybe it’s my inability to figure out anything to do about said feeling, my rage at feeling trapped in this god-forsaken job, trapped in choices I can’t undo. But O. is either a better person than me, or just younger and not yet defeated by life. Alternately, he could be dumb, but I seriously doubt it. Nobody who fucks like he does, reads like he does, and just plain lives like him is stupid. He’s so amazingly energetic regarding literature, music, culture. I wish he were a little better at cleaning up after himself, too, but then I fail on that point as well. I guess the deal is, I feel odd about us right now, but if he’s willing to put up with me, I’ll give at least as much as he does, because I love him and want him to thrive. You can’t thrive if you’re the only one giving in a relationship. I won’t let him do that to himself again, not with me. He deserves better than his other two longer-term boyfriends, and even if we do go our separate ways, I will embody better.

Speaking of long-term anything, the process continues to get Orpheus invited to Thanksgiving at my sisters’ house. She’s currently talking to Komponist about the possibility of turning suburbian St. Joe into a Nichols-family abbatoir for the holiday, given Dad’s inflexibility on the subject of my sexuality. Maybe, given what I’ve said above, it’ll be better than I think (aka, Orpheus and I may not still be escaping the underworld come November), or it’ll just GO better (if we are still a we). If Dad isn’t in his context, he’ll be nicer. Mom just wants to meet O., and would love him because I love him. This is how Mom works. Komponist doesn’t have any reservations about me being bi, but I’d understand not wanting a drunken former band director, beet-red in the face, hurling mashed potatoes in the dining room while making the neighbors blush with his screamed curses. That would be something I’d fear, too, honestly, and I’m not afraid of Dad anymore… But then, I can’t do good patchwork with plaster and paint, and neither can K.

To bring the tone back up to zero, I should share that I’ve just found the most freakishly over-marketed thing hanging from the outside of a co-worker’s cubicle… It’s a pine tree shaped car freshener, imprinted with the stars and stripes (it looks like a cutout of the bottom corner of the star-field, catching some of the stripes), and printed with the legend, “Vanilla Pride,” reeking like the Candle Barn at low tide. It made me laugh for a good five minutes. I needed that.