thank goodness

Okay, so first of all, I sold my bed. Thank goodness. And by my bed, I mean J's deceased father's bed. Eeew. Thank goodness it's done.

Um, and something else. So, I'm packing for my move, right? (I move on Friday) And do you know what horribly horrible horrid thing I realized?

Well, you see, I have this box I've been keeping of fun things that would make me smile on a rainy day. Full of Carebear birthday cards someone printed, or Little Yellow Difference, and poems by Chrissy Shackle. There's even a copy of the Earth Club article that was in the Tulsa World, and all sorts of notes, letters and CFT fun. Cards that really touched me--when people wrote about my dad's death, or when we had to put Bluey to sleep, or people just writing to let me know that I was loved.

And cards from you know who. So I collected all of his together and got ready to throw them away. I decided to read them again--I don't really know why. Maybe because my yay-I'm-only-celebrating-me day is only eight days away. Or because sometimes you look at pictures one last time and remember who you were, or thought you were, or what you became. And do you know what I saw. Something that SCREAMED don't do it. F*cking SCREAMED it. Why did no one see?

Every card had a formula.
They all said something like

-honey, baby, sweetheart, buttercup, etc.
-I'm sorry we're having problems with ______ (school, grad school, wedding stuff, anything at all) but really that's just because we're having petty fights since we're so perfect.
-Boy I'm glad you're smart and beautiful.
-We are perfect for each other, we just need to get through now and it will all get better in the future.
-I'm so lucky you're so smart/hot/fun/outgoing.
-We'll be happy one day, I'm sorry things are rough.

Every damn one of them. Yeesh. Maybe that's a good way to analyze boys. Read their cards and notes and emails over a long period of time. So girls--watch for patterns. And guys--don't be formulaic. Or course, most guys aren't like him. And thank goodness for that too.

also, I have another sinus infection. which wasn't supposed to happen, really. I count myself lucky that at least I am able to get it out of my nose since my sinuses are wider open. But I'm really not so thrilled.

I'm going to read now. The Devil in the White City is a pretty neato book, just FYI.