Regresar
For the most part, LiveJournal has outlived its usefulness. I've been feeling lately like a more organic approach to keeping up with people's lives - less facebook and more phone calls - suits me better. Content updates from me have been sparse, and will continue to be so. But with the meta-disclaimer out of the way, I find myself in a mood to write, or more accurately to be read.
I'm not going to play bash the ex-girlfriend, but the relationship I was in just ended, and badly. It's been an uncomfortable week of pacing up and down my entire emotional spectrum. I've shared enough details to get the advice I needed to get through last week, but for those who care yet remain outside of the loop, the short version is London (and the school at which she interns) is substantially more important than anything back home (and particularly so factoring the schoolteacher for whom she's developed feelings) and, after a really lousy birthday where I was blown off completely (for extra classes and dinner out with said schoolteacher), she decided she can't handle the distance, and I decided I can't handle getting treated like shit.
It's a shame because she has the best family ever. They're close-knit and open with each other and functional, almost in a 50's-sitcom-about-being-a-white-family kind of way, but without the Christian undertones. I'm going to miss them a lot. I've got a long, empty drive ahead to return some of her books before she gets back, and I'm really hoping to see her parents when I drop off her things.
It's for the best, really. And from an objective standpoint involving statistical analysis of my previous ex-girlfriends post-breakup, bitch gonna get fat.
Seriously. Breaking up with me is bad for your health.
I've been trying to force myself to be sociable, because if I don't I'm only going to turn into a proper hermit, staff and beard and all, and stay inside all winter playing video games and shying away from real human interaction. Awesome for my arena team, but I'm thinking this time around I should put my health and sanity ahead of World of Warcraft. Heh. Now there's a sentence I've never said before.
On a very conscious level I want to be out and seeing people and making new connections, but my.. social energy levels, if you will, have just crashed after this messy end of things. Also, facebook is totally fucking with me. Every time I log on it shows a new message in my Inbox, and I'm waiting for a response from my ex to my long letter of 'wtf just happened here?' But when I switch to the Inbox, there's nothing new. And that is the most interesting story I have to tell.
I was working Tuesday when this happened. My partner heard the call go out, and I saw the paramedic who took the boy to the hospital in the ER parking lot. He was a wreck. I've worked with him once before, riding up to the Cath Lab in Hartford at three in the morning in case he needed a set of hands for CPR compressions, and he's a nice guy with a little kid of his own at home. After a day or two he was right back at work again, doing 60 hours a week like the rest of us and forgetting about calls like that.
I'm not going to play bash the ex-girlfriend, but the relationship I was in just ended, and badly. It's been an uncomfortable week of pacing up and down my entire emotional spectrum. I've shared enough details to get the advice I needed to get through last week, but for those who care yet remain outside of the loop, the short version is London (and the school at which she interns) is substantially more important than anything back home (and particularly so factoring the schoolteacher for whom she's developed feelings) and, after a really lousy birthday where I was blown off completely (for extra classes and dinner out with said schoolteacher), she decided she can't handle the distance, and I decided I can't handle getting treated like shit.
It's a shame because she has the best family ever. They're close-knit and open with each other and functional, almost in a 50's-sitcom-about-being-a-white-family kind of way, but without the Christian undertones. I'm going to miss them a lot. I've got a long, empty drive ahead to return some of her books before she gets back, and I'm really hoping to see her parents when I drop off her things.
It's for the best, really. And from an objective standpoint involving statistical analysis of my previous ex-girlfriends post-breakup, bitch gonna get fat.
Seriously. Breaking up with me is bad for your health.
I've been trying to force myself to be sociable, because if I don't I'm only going to turn into a proper hermit, staff and beard and all, and stay inside all winter playing video games and shying away from real human interaction. Awesome for my arena team, but I'm thinking this time around I should put my health and sanity ahead of World of Warcraft. Heh. Now there's a sentence I've never said before.
On a very conscious level I want to be out and seeing people and making new connections, but my.. social energy levels, if you will, have just crashed after this messy end of things. Also, facebook is totally fucking with me. Every time I log on it shows a new message in my Inbox, and I'm waiting for a response from my ex to my long letter of 'wtf just happened here?' But when I switch to the Inbox, there's nothing new. And that is the most interesting story I have to tell.
I was working Tuesday when this happened. My partner heard the call go out, and I saw the paramedic who took the boy to the hospital in the ER parking lot. He was a wreck. I've worked with him once before, riding up to the Cath Lab in Hartford at three in the morning in case he needed a set of hands for CPR compressions, and he's a nice guy with a little kid of his own at home. After a day or two he was right back at work again, doing 60 hours a week like the rest of us and forgetting about calls like that.