A simple math problem (Anabel)

On Thursday night, two girls met four guys. Two girls met four boys at a beer bar on 7th street and sat down to get to know each other better. Those are good odds, right? Girl 1 took an immediate liking to the most obnoxious know it all at the table - Guy 1. They argued about politics, but it was mostly a precursor to shamelessly making out in front of all involved.

This left Girl 2 with Guys 2, 3 and 4. Guy 2 had a girlfriend. Guy 3 had just been dumped two days prior by the love of his life. And Guy 4... oh Guy 4. He started out the conversation with "I'm a jackass." Girl 2 thought back to something her mother had once said - If a guy tells you he's a jerk [Girl 2's mother would never use the term Jackass], then don't even bother with him. When he turns out to actually be a jerk later, he'll just say 'hey, I warned you!'

So there she was, lonely in a sea of men. Girl 2, feeling utterly dejected. And so it goes lately, so it goes.  

Anabel

Me: You're being awfully rude tonight, I really don't appreciate it. Say something nice to me right now or I'm hanging up.

P: Fine. Your new haircut looks really nice; your hair looked great when I saw you last.

Me: What?! I didn't think you even noticed that I got a haircut.

P: Oh I did.

Me: Then why didn't you complement me on it when you noticed if you liked it so much?

P: When I notice things and I want to complement you, I make a mental note and save it for when  you're freaking out about something. Then, and only then, do I complement you.

Me: So, in other words, you just wait for a time when you've done something wrong and use week-old compliments as leverage?!

P: [pleased with himself] exactly. 

Me: You're a pig.

Anabel

Last week was arguably one of the worst weeks of my life. Three distinctly bad things happened to me. I'm hoping the rule of threes is true - that bad things happen in threes, because my poor little self can't take any more trauma.

Bad thing number 1: At the conference in Oklahoma City last week I was doing my diligence and hanging around the hotel bar after dinner one night talking to other folks attending the same conference. All par for the course, something I've done a million times before. When alcohol is involved, people tend to get more chummy and chatty and you actually get to know them, unlike the stiff interactions you have during the actual conference. To make a long story short - because there are two other bad things forthcoming - the night ended with a middle aged married man from Michigan groping my thigh and asking which room I was in upstairs. Yuck! I smiled at him, took a gulp of my drink, stood up, and walked away. This all felt very yucky, but the worst is that I think a bunch of people saw it, including a male VP from my office. He was nice about it and sent me an email saying I shouldn't ever have to be put in that situation and if he can ever help, he will. But I just get the feeling that now I'm a liability. No one wants to travel with the 25 year old single girl if they're going to have to deal with watching her be sexually harassed. The gross old dude, I can deal with (it isn't pleasant, but I can deal with it), but its the bad taste the whole thing leaves in other people's minds. Sometimes, I really wish I were a man.

Bad thing number 2: My grandfather passed away this weekend. I cried... a lot. I don't know what else to say. Sad doesn't seem an appropriate enough word... maybe devastated. It just seems like my whole family's dynamic is shifting and shifting and nothing exists the way I remember it anymore. I hate change when it comes to my family, I need them to stay exactly the same, I need them to keep on existing, I need them as a place to come home to when things get really bad. But more and more, they're getting smaller and more distant. And now my grandpa's gone. And so everything has changed and the universe has shifted in some inexplicable way.

Bad thing number 3: Driving home from the funeral on Tuesday, I was in a terrible terrible car accident. I was driving the rented 2008 ford focus like a little grandmother - my hands at ten and two, my seat all the way forward and straight up and down. Going around a curve in the highway at 70mph I suddenly lost control of the car and fishtailed into the median. They say my car flipped five times, but all I remember is a nice old man talking to me while I was suspended upside down from my seatbelt while we waited for the paramedics to come cut me out of the car. I'm extremely lucky... extremely. I walked away with a few bruises and some neck pain, but all my catscans came back completely clear. And Peter drove seventy miles to the hospital and sat next to me and told me I looked pretty, even though I was wearing hospital gown three sizes too big and my hair was stuck up in the air like a troll doll's hair, tinted red with dried blood.

So here I am, back at work on Monday morning, just glad to be somewhere near normal again, praying what they say is true - that bad things happen in threes.  

Anabel

Kate's wedding was simply lovely. It was vintage Kate, because despite all of the millions of things that very nearly went wrong, it all came together perfectly at the last second. They got married on a beautiful sunny day, next to a lake, with 300 of their closest friends. Kate always looks cute, but on Sunday she looked beautiful; she had just the type of luminescence a bride is supposed to have on her wedding day; she was radiant. The flowers were perfect deep magenta roses that popped out of our sage green bridesmaid dresses, the groom was anxious and stoic all at once.  I don't really even remember much of the day, but instead remember distinct patches of time.

I remember thinking "I probably won't get this sentimental at my own wedding," and then crying ridiculously big crocodile tears for the world to see. I also cried like a fool when she and Mr. Kate were hugging everyone goodbye, about to embark on their honeymoon. It was that kind of quiet overwhelming rush of emotion that you never see coming. It was the end of an era. I cried and cried... and cried. It was downright embarrassing.

I returned that night to Kate's condo to spend the night in quiet reflection. And guess what? I cried some more. I think the sum of all the tears I've shed in my lifetime couldn't match those I cried on Kate's wedding day. I wasn't crying because I was sad exactly, just because things are so different now. They're not better or worse, just different. I love Kate's husband, I've known him for the better part of ten  years, and know there isn't anyone better suited for her. I just... mourn the loss of some indescribable thing. It's not our friendship, because that's still going to be there. Maybe it's just that change is hard. And I was mourning the loss of how things used to be. I still haven't quite figured it all out. But I promise that when I do, you guys will be the first to know.