the 51st week

I was a little premature in calling the last update the “final week,” since it was really the second-to-final week at Park Avenue. I haven’t been staying there, but I haven’t totally said goodbye to it, either. Our lease there is up on the seventh, and at that point my time in the Hobbit Hole will commence.

Monday. I had the day off, and slept in until 8:30 before going to The Anchor to do some reading and writing. I had lunch at Dusmesh (the new crew knows me now), and the afternoon was spent moving furniture into the new place with the help of Mom, Dad, and Ams, and a U-Haul. It’s pretty cozy. “It’s my hobbit hole!” I exclaimed. Once we wrapped that up, I went to Winton Ridge for an evening of Mario-Kart 200cc. It began sleeting so I headed home early.

Tuesday. Miranda and I opened at Tazza Mia, and after work I ferried Brandon to Rhinegeist and then picked up Amos on Ludlow. We went to his place to watch the last episode of The Walking Dead and to play Call of Duty. Snow fell all day, and traffic turned a 20-minute commute home into an hour. Sarah came over, and we drank tequila—I had three shots, she had the rest of the bottle—and we ordered Chinese from Peking Restaurant and talked life, love and literature as the snow fell outside.

Wednesday. I worked 6:30-11:00 with Eric, a slow day because of the impending holiday. I worked with Walk of Joy until 5:30, and then I went to Winton Ridge for some Mario-Kart 200cc before drinking wheat liquor at Bakewell with John, Corey, Mandy and Ams. Sarah came over for a bit, and we listened to Of Monsters and Men and talked World War 2 history.

Thanksgiving. Ams and I headed up to New Carlisle for a holiday brunch with Dad’s side of the family: egg casseroles, pineapple-ham meatballs, and homemade cinnamon rolls. Cate turns five at the end of this month. I remember how when I held Cate for the first time so long ago, an image of me holding MY first child with the Wisconsinite by my side flashed before my eyes and sank deep. I never gave up on that dream, and the memory of that day sent me into a quiet spiral, and  sat in the living room rocking chair and clutched a cup of lukewarm coffee, and I had that thousand-yard stare you get when your body’s one place and your mind’s another. I get a little more depressed around the holidays, probably just seasonal depression, the cold and the dark. You’d think infusing Thanksgiving and Christmas in the middle of winter would help, but it tends to make things worse. Christmas time is one of the biggest suicide seasons, after all. I’ve never really had a “Christmas spirit”. It isn’t that I’m nonconformist or anything, I just don’t get into them. I’m sure when I have kids of my own, the holidays will be infused with more meaning. They’re family holidays, really, and when you don’t have a “family of your own,” it’s easy to feel like an outsider, especially when the gatherings are principally marked by three-generation families. For now the holidays, and all the associated glitz, glamour, and traffic, are more a wearying headache than anything else. New Year’s Eve I’m down with (I’m always eager to start a new year and end an old one), but everything between that and Thanksgiving could be gotten rid of and I wouldn’t lose a bit of sleep.

Black Friday. I met up with Jessie and Tony at The Anchor; they’re in town this weekend for the holidays. We grabbed breakfast and coffee, and then we went back to my place to hang out and catch up on all those things happening in our lives, all the changes we’ve been going through. When they headed out I headed south to Lexington to celebrate Thanksgiving with Mom’s side of the family. Mom and Dad were supposed to pick up Ams off 275 but forgot, and Ams was understandably pissed as she gunned it for Lexington. The family gathered at Jesse and Mandy’s house, and we drank beers, ordered pizza, and Mom and I took our ritualistic “Holiday Shot” (she does tequila; I do bourbon). Kennedy’s so big now, and Jesse and Mandy’s newborn Brentley was on display. They retired early, and Ams and I reconvened with Jared and Ashley at their place, and we watched TV and played board games late into the night.

Saturday. I woke with a start at 7 AM, unable to go back to sleep. I dreamt the Wisconsinite and I were hanging out at U.C.C., in the Roh’s Street café like we did a few times way-back-when, and in the dream everything was how I want it to be, and then another guy showed up. She hugged him and kissed him and called him “baby,” and in the dream I hurried from the church out into the cold and empty street and screamed in rage, waking myself up. I knew I couldn’t just lie there, the dream still heavy, so I went to the gas station for coffee. I left Lexington around 10:30 and drove up to Centerville to see Dylan and Tyler. Dylan’s in town for Thanksgiving, and he landed an awesome government job back in D.C. I met Julia, Tyler’s fiancée, and she seems pretty cool. I hurried from there to a Walk of Joy shift in Blue Ash, and thanks to coffee at 8 PM I was up until three reading history.

Sunday. Jessie and Tony and I met up for one last hurrah at The Anchor before they headed back to Illinois. Anchor times stretched into church times, so I forewent U.C.C. (it’s okay to miss one every once in a while, helps fight the legalism) and instead did some reading before grabbing lunch at Dusmesh. I spent my afternoon curled up in my Hobbit Hole reading and listening to The Black Keys. Sarah came over for a little bit, and so did Ams. Ams and I headed over to Bakewell, and Corey and Mandy joined us for dinner at Zola Pub & Grill down the street. I had a gyro with French fries, and Corey and I split onion rings. From there I headed directly to Blue Ash for a shift with Walk of Joy until midnight, and I navigated the cold and dark roads home and collapsed exhausted in my bed with the space-heater blaring. 

Also noteworthy: I reopened my online dating profiles for a few days, more so hoping that browsing profiles would help aleve the feeling that there's no one quite like Mandy K. out there. The truth is that I don't WANT to date, I don't WANT a girlfriend. I want HER, pure and simple, and the final evoscerating loss stirs my heart far more than I thought it could. Browsing the online dating sites just makes me miss her all the more, and it's more depressing than anything, underscoring the loss. It doesn't help when you chat with a girl for less than 24 hours, and because you don't reply to a text immediately, you're suddenly no different than all the other guys who lead women on and then stomp on tier hearts. It was laughable, and I did laugh, but I closed my account too, reminded again why I closed it in the first place. Desperate women fill the ranks, and I'm not at ALL into that. I'm not going to be some woman's redeemer. Besides, like I said, I don't WANT to date, I just want to be with Amanda Lynn.