Post-it?

I was cleaning my cluttered apartment in preparation for a friend's arrival from Paris tomorrow.  As I was tidying up my desk, I came across a little post-it note with a list of people.  This, I recalled, as I looked at the note, is a list of my friends.

I realized as I kept cleaning that I make these lists with relative frequency.  It's often simply an inventory of friends.  People I care for very much at the time of inscription.  Sometimes, it is a list of people that I would invite to a hypothetical celebration, or people I should send a letter.  

These lists never develop into much more than a list.  They are just names lined up on a little scrap of paper that gets shoved under piles of other papers, until I come across them again during an all too infrequent apartment cleaning.  

The challenge is always deciding what I should do with the list.

...that's what the stache said.

The first blog and sadly it is inspired by facebook and a “that’s what she said joke.”

I quote from my newsfeed: “yes”… that’s what she said.

Who was this status update comedian? A lover past; the lover first. The punchline? The cyber announcement of his proposal to then girlfriend now fiancée. I look at her answer, embedded in my least favorite of sentence appendages, romantically engraved on my facebook home page.

As I casually peruse the photos miraculously taken while these two love birds picnic in a field framed by pavement, I can’t help but notice a facial element of my past love: the “sketchy stache.” It was a mark of youth, his ability to grow a mustache, but never a beard, which became all the more apparent with a day’s negligence. Although there were several times that I asked, for the sake of my upper lip, that it might be tamed with a bit more vigilance, the “stache” was sort of cute when we dated in college.

But there it was on the field ensconced by pavement, proposing engagement.

I had just returned from giving freshly baked bread to the boy I apparently still love (not to be confused with the boy I will always love, Chris Tozzi). After driving around for a little over an hour following the unnecessarily long hug and the unequivocal proof in my pounding heart, I sulked into my bedroom and with self pity signed on to facebook. And there it was. The that’s what she said joke, the sketchy stache, and his new and improved relationship status.

And, I felt better.