A Girl and Her Sled
Last year, I spent my first Valentine's Day here in New York City. I battled the freak snowstorm, got Ethiopian food with my roommate Sarah and somehow made it to Rejection Show Heartbreak Haven (I once was one of you, sitting over there in the corner) where I lost a friendship or two, made out with a guy I really regret, and got very, very, very, very drunk.
Two years ago, I was in a very short relationship with this guy that I met off myspace, who was a dead ringer for Paul Rudd. He worked at the local news station, was a bit of a workaholic and frequently yelled at his sixteen pound cat, Boots, a red tabby.
This guy was what I like to call "an announcer." For those who don't know what that means, it means during copulating, he would announce when the end was near. Personally, I'd rather someone knock me out in the middle of it than know when they were about to ejaculate. (Makes swinging motion).
Because neither of us spent a Valentine's Day with anyone, we really wanted to make it special. I bought a bottle of wine for him and cleaned up my apartment for his arrival. He came over, commented soon after, "just be glad I remembered it was Valentine's Day," handed me a scented candle and a card that read,
(I'm going to read this in my sexy voice)
Kaetlin,
I'm having a difficult time thinking of how to start this, so I guess I'll just get right to the point: You make me happy, and I'm glad that we're together. You're smart, funny, caring and considerate, and I appreciate everything that you've done for me, and I sincerely want to make you happy too.
I hope that, over the coming weeks and months, our relationship can continue to grow on the path hat we've set. The more time that I spend with you, the more that I see how unique and wonderful you really are Thanks for making me so happy and giving me something to smile about.
-A-"
I was taken aback by the extrely emotional nature of the card because it was very early in the relationship, but I took it as a sign of good things to come. I thought it would be a good Valentine's Day to remember.
A month later, I was having issues with my landlord who hadn't finished renovating my apartment and I ended up looking for another place to live. The guy had said he'd help me out when I needed it. Soon enough, I got this amazing studio apartment one mile away and asked him to help me move on a Saturday. He was working a double at the station the night before and told me, "I'll be tired." It was an hour job to move my belongings and he had a pickup truck! So, I gave him the ultimatum, "you can help me or not, that is your choice." (That's girl speak for, "if you don't help me with this, you will be sleeping alone for quite awhile.")
Before you think that I was just being bitchy and demanding, you should know that I didn't have a working refridgerator, that I had nails sticking up from the floor where my landlord removed the carpet, and he spent more time working on the empty apartment above me than considering to work on the one that I lived in. Plus, it's in the rule book of relationships that all boyfriends help you move. Just as it was in the book that you bring gatorade and chicken soup to your wussy Paul Rudd lookalike boyfriend who calls in sick to work after a rigorous game of hockey.
So, he opted to sleep and I opted to move. I got up early, packed my things and considered stealing a shopping cart from the local grocery store, but I didn't think I could get it out of the parking lot. Feeling hopeless, I went home and found these two sleds in he basement that the previous tenant had left. It was St. Patrick's Day weekend, every townie was out drinking in the city and block where I lived. So here I am, a girl and her sled, at times two. Sledding a bookcase, clothes, my tv and computer, food, my cat, the Valentine's Day card he gave me, you name it, it was there, while the drunk ones yelled, "hey sled girl, where you going?"
No one bothered helping me in the two day I did this until my last trip. I made eight. Did I tell you that there was no snow on the ground? Did I also tell you that Rochester's sidewalks are eroded and crappy and ended up putting several holes in the sled by the time I was finished?
When all was said and done, I moved 85% of my apartment by sled and I felt very proud of myself, like I didn't need anyone, I still feel like that way to this day. My Valentine and I broke up, he never did help me move, nor did we talk except for me to get my favorite movie "Wet Hot American Summer" from him. He never did give that back to me either. This Valentine's Day, I can't drink because I gave it up for lent, I will probably not make out with a boy I like because they are all sitting in the back (and have girlfriends) and I hopefully will make some new friends.
Two years ago, I was in a very short relationship with this guy that I met off myspace, who was a dead ringer for Paul Rudd. He worked at the local news station, was a bit of a workaholic and frequently yelled at his sixteen pound cat, Boots, a red tabby.
This guy was what I like to call "an announcer." For those who don't know what that means, it means during copulating, he would announce when the end was near. Personally, I'd rather someone knock me out in the middle of it than know when they were about to ejaculate. (Makes swinging motion).
Because neither of us spent a Valentine's Day with anyone, we really wanted to make it special. I bought a bottle of wine for him and cleaned up my apartment for his arrival. He came over, commented soon after, "just be glad I remembered it was Valentine's Day," handed me a scented candle and a card that read,
(I'm going to read this in my sexy voice)
Kaetlin,
I'm having a difficult time thinking of how to start this, so I guess I'll just get right to the point: You make me happy, and I'm glad that we're together. You're smart, funny, caring and considerate, and I appreciate everything that you've done for me, and I sincerely want to make you happy too.
I hope that, over the coming weeks and months, our relationship can continue to grow on the path hat we've set. The more time that I spend with you, the more that I see how unique and wonderful you really are Thanks for making me so happy and giving me something to smile about.
-A-"
I was taken aback by the extrely emotional nature of the card because it was very early in the relationship, but I took it as a sign of good things to come. I thought it would be a good Valentine's Day to remember.
A month later, I was having issues with my landlord who hadn't finished renovating my apartment and I ended up looking for another place to live. The guy had said he'd help me out when I needed it. Soon enough, I got this amazing studio apartment one mile away and asked him to help me move on a Saturday. He was working a double at the station the night before and told me, "I'll be tired." It was an hour job to move my belongings and he had a pickup truck! So, I gave him the ultimatum, "you can help me or not, that is your choice." (That's girl speak for, "if you don't help me with this, you will be sleeping alone for quite awhile.")
Before you think that I was just being bitchy and demanding, you should know that I didn't have a working refridgerator, that I had nails sticking up from the floor where my landlord removed the carpet, and he spent more time working on the empty apartment above me than considering to work on the one that I lived in. Plus, it's in the rule book of relationships that all boyfriends help you move. Just as it was in the book that you bring gatorade and chicken soup to your wussy Paul Rudd lookalike boyfriend who calls in sick to work after a rigorous game of hockey.
So, he opted to sleep and I opted to move. I got up early, packed my things and considered stealing a shopping cart from the local grocery store, but I didn't think I could get it out of the parking lot. Feeling hopeless, I went home and found these two sleds in he basement that the previous tenant had left. It was St. Patrick's Day weekend, every townie was out drinking in the city and block where I lived. So here I am, a girl and her sled, at times two. Sledding a bookcase, clothes, my tv and computer, food, my cat, the Valentine's Day card he gave me, you name it, it was there, while the drunk ones yelled, "hey sled girl, where you going?"
No one bothered helping me in the two day I did this until my last trip. I made eight. Did I tell you that there was no snow on the ground? Did I also tell you that Rochester's sidewalks are eroded and crappy and ended up putting several holes in the sled by the time I was finished?
When all was said and done, I moved 85% of my apartment by sled and I felt very proud of myself, like I didn't need anyone, I still feel like that way to this day. My Valentine and I broke up, he never did help me move, nor did we talk except for me to get my favorite movie "Wet Hot American Summer" from him. He never did give that back to me either. This Valentine's Day, I can't drink because I gave it up for lent, I will probably not make out with a boy I like because they are all sitting in the back (and have girlfriends) and I hopefully will make some new friends.
posted by Kaet @ 9:27 AM
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