Just Calling to Confirm

August 1, 2008

My friend Josie Rindee is a very busy woman. Her blackberry calendar is completely full from morning until night. An average day for her may look like this:

5 am – Personal Trainer
7:30 am – Work
11:00 am – Work Brunch w/New Client
12:30 pm – Work Lunch w/Existing Client
3:00 pm – Mani/Pedi
6:00 pm – Meet Steve for drinks
7:30 pm – Bikram Yoga
9:30 pm – Dinner w/Girls
11:00 pm – Calvin

This girl does schedules more in one day than I can in one week – and she almost always keeps to her schedule. No joke – there have been times where I’ve been cut off midsentence by Josie telling me that she has to run because so-and-so has scheduled her time starting in 10 minutes. Josie is single, but somehow still finds the time to date more than one man, two in one night sometimes.

She is a machine.

We were having lunch the other day (from 11:30 am – 1:00 pm at Sassafraz), and I grabbed her Blackberry to schedule myself and our friends in for a Saturday night with the girls. Her night looked free until midnight, where instead of a description, a reminder, the only info was “Calvin”. I scanned my mind quickly thinking of a guy she was dating named Calvin, but nothing came to me.

She told me it was a guy she saw a few times week. She canceled that night with him promptly, leaving him a bland message about cancelling, leaving it open for me and the girls.

When our girl night rolled around, we all went to dinner where nobody ate anything, went to a martini lounge, and ended up back at Maria’s penthouse for drinks. Us girls were tanked. There was no way about it. We were all dancing to no music, lounging on couches but really just slightly slipping off of them, and one girl was even lying down on the fur rug talking about life and love and the new shoes she bought.

Josie was checking her phone.

“Joooossss! Who are you texting?” Maria shouted catching the same thing I was.

“No one, no one.”

We let it go, but then we both saw it again. Josie was texting on girls night. Drunk. Drunk texting is the worst. The words never type out right. You can’t read the message coming in. And it just ends up bad. Bad.

Maria ran over and grabbed Josie’s Blackberry out of her hand, scrambling to figure it out and then threw it over to me. Josie half-attempted to get it back, but all the champage she drank earlier was making her move in slow motion, and then just collapsing back in the armchair she cradled herself in.

“Calvin!”

I looked at her across the room and a smile rose on her face.

I read outloud: “Calvin, I’m just calling to confirm our 3:30 am”

Maria started howling, “You’re calling??? You’re texting dumby.”

Blake questioned why she was meeting a guy at 3:30, and Josie just shook her head, still smiling dope-ily.

“You mean, you’re meeting him tonight? After you leave here?”

A short silence filled the apartment. And suddenly a screech from the kitchen:

“BOOTY CALL!”

“You confimed a booty call?” I asked her, trying not to laugh too hard.

Josie finally mustered up enough sobrerity to say her little speech, “Listen ladies. I have so many demands in my life. I have a job. I have to workout. I have a dog. I have my friends. I have my dates. I work.” Josie was counting out her points on her fingers.

“And you know what? Sometimes, I just need to get fucked. Okay? And if we, as women, don’t do this for ourselves – well who the hell can we count on to do it for us? So I schedule sex. So what? At least I know when I’m getting laid.”

Maria was still laughing, “But you confirmed?”

“Emily Post requires you to confirm your appointments at least 3 hours ahead to ensure that all parties are on time.”

We all burst out laughing at Josie’s advice, while she held her head up high, threw on her Louboutin’s, and bid us all good night.

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Interesting

June 11, 2008

After the heat, the rain came pouring down for days. At times it would come down intense, with thunder and lightening, at times just soft and sprinkling. It seemed to cool me down for a bit, but the humidity would come back stronger than before.

It relates to my relationship in many ways – sometimes we seem to not get enough of each other, sometimes we don’t want to be in the same room as each other, and sometimes it’s just so-so, just getting by, day to day, which is boring, but sometimes, that’s life.

I wish my relationship was exciting and intimate and sexy all the time – I wish it was a rush of me and him, him and I, 24/7. That feeling you get when you first meet somebody, that feeling of butterflies and flirting, and feeling hot for him all the time. The way a girl shows off a bit when she first meets a guy, laughing a little louder, thrusting her breasts out a little further – sometimes I want that all the time.

And it’s so cliche isn’t it? Enter a kid, a dog, a house, a life together, and the passion retreats just a bit, sometimes a large bit, but in my case it’s a small-medium bit. My boyfriend works an awful lot as well, for instance, today he left the house around 7 am, and he’s hopefully going to be back by 9 pm. He’s always tired.

But sometimes I’m left to wonder, are these all just excuses?

Successful couples learn to deal with each others issues, problems, and learn to live together somewhat synchronized albeit in a repetitive semi-bored state, right? It’s like a machine that’s well-oiled. And everyone else is what? Unsuccessful? Meaning that their relationship will eventually dissipate? Do “successful” couples even exist?

Kids, dogs, work, and other issues in relationships should NOT be excuses as to why a relationship is slowing down or losing its passion. They shouldn’t be – but we let it happen to ourselves all the time. Are we self-sabotaging ourselves? Why do we let this happen?

I have to say though, there are times where I don’t feel entirely connected to him, I feel like we are more a mom & dad both working at keeping the world turning consistently and boring, working hard and living life. But there are times….

When he comes home from work at 9 pm to find me all dolled up and ready to go out, and, instead of hanging his head and whining about a hard days work, he gets dressed and cleaned up, and takes me out for a light night snack. A couple of glasses of wine.

And then we make love so passionately, so intensely, that I forget any feeling of disconnect I could have had.

Maybe that’s what makes a relationship work. Those special nights of passion intertwined with the blandness of life. Just to keep things interesting.