2002-03-11 - 5:48 a.m. this one's on you In college, my closest friend, "A", had a knack for picking the wrong guy. This was because she didn't actually bother to *pick* the guys she became involved with. Instead, she went out with any boy who asked, regardless of her level of attraction to him. In many ways, she felt that dating men was just another way to finance her life while propping up her shaky self-esteem. You see, though she was a very beautiful girl, she was 30-40 pounds overweight and struggling with bulimia the entire time I knew her. One especially revolting boy that she dated off and on for 6 months or so was an especially blatant cad. Although he was sleeping with my friend, who would come on to me whenever he was alone with me (which didn't happen very often for just that reason.) He also used to write about me in his journal then leave it around for her to read. Imagine the horror "A" and I felt when she found out she was pregnant. He offered to marry her and raise the baby, and she asked him if he was insane, then booked an appointment to take care of it. After the pregnancy was no more, he showed up to pick her up with 18 or so long-stemmed red roses. We referred to these flowers forever after as the "abortion roses." He might have had a chance of hanging onto her for a little while longer if he hadn't made the faux pas with the roses. You see, he clearly misjudged her. Long-stemmed red roses were, to "A", a symbol of attraction, of being smitten -- not something you should give someone else as a condolence or a celebration for something unpleasant being over and done with. She didn't throw the roses away though. We gave them away all over the City that day. We gave them to cute boys we knew, and some we didn't. We even gave two to the leader of a band we particularly admired. But she never forgave that boy for giving them to her. My current closest friend, on the other hand, was dinged by an ex for *not* bringing her abortion roses. She never got over it. To her, it meant he didn't care about her enough to intuit her want and need for this visible expression of his love. I've never been in the position to receive such roses, but expect I'd be in the camp with my friend "A" on this. I love presents of all kinds, but can't imagine anything more horrible than beautiful blood red flowers in the aftermath of such a difficult, unpleasant situation. Which brings me up to the present day. Many well-intentioned people I love and who love me want to take me out for dinner to celebrate or mark my divorce. I understand that they mean well, but they clearly misjudge the importance food has in my life, and had in my marriage. As I noted in my last entry, the food and the love and the intimacy all became one. I hope everyone understands when I decline the dinner invitations and ask not to have a party in my honor. It's just not something to celebrate in the world I inhabit. The upside to all this is my new life is starting. Full of possibilities and new people and experiences. And new love. Wish me luck. But don't bring me dinner...or roses. any comments? (0 so far) previous - next recently on almostgoldsf... in defense of an email box I came to do battle with SPAM - 2008-05-17 hello 2006 - 2005-12-31 Happy Thanksgiving - 2005-11-14 bon voyage - 2005-11-05 October already? - 2005-10-09