Transcript after the jump.
I have had the misfortune of having to meet five of my boyfriend's exes. Some of these women are my peers whom I encounter frequently in social settings. Although I recognize everyone has a past, I experience various negative emotions when I am forced to encounter these women. How do I deal with this gracefully?
Do you have apricots in your shoes? Yes or no, Mommy? No apricots? No, you DO have apricots in your shoes! I put them in there yesterday! But don’t worry, it’s okay, Mommy. Take off your shoes, and then you shake-shake-shake. Like this: shake-shake-shake, shake-shake-shake, shake your bod-ette! [...]
This particular ex and I had what anyone would refer to as a tumultuous relationship. One time he described us as Sid and Nancy, which really is not something a couple should ever go for. We both drank, and we both drank a lot more during the time we were actually dating, during which he was partly living with me, partly leaving his suitcase on my floor and rampaging about town, passing out in other apartments, getting kicked out of cabs and losing his phone, wallet, laptop, brain cells. I was the “responsible” one in the relationship, which meant, generally but not always, that I got slightly less drunk [...]
New York is a town with a double edge. It’s a city where you can cheap out and spend a day in The Met for a $1 (and almost feel good about it until you realize you should have given at least $5, why are you so cheap?), but then afterward, go for a walk in Central Park and not think twice about forking over $4 for a so-so cup of coffee.
It’s a city where you can have a negligible amount of money in your checking account and a non-existent savings, but when you walk around the West Village—and specifically West 10th Street—stalkily peering into the windows of the [...]
Theory: You are officially over your ex once you can listen, unmoved, to the Magnetic Fields lyric: "You won't be happy with me, but give me one more chance / you won't be happy anyway."
Feel free to propose alternative lyrics, or the entirety of "Pictures of You" by The Cure.
In high school I read a poem about a woman watching raindrops slide down her windowpane. Each drop reminds her of a different past lover. The memories accumulate on the same plane, slipping and colliding at unplanned intervals. I remember nothing about the author or the rest of the poem, but I remember wondering if it was possible to have as many boyfriends as raindrops, and feeling inexplicably sad. I didn’t yet have meaningful relationships that could be put in the past, so this was a foreboding sadness—a sense of a dark raincloud on the horizon.
I have a question about exes, specifically the idea (stereotype?) that all lady lovers are able to remain friends with their former lady loves. My current lady is on friendly terms with her ex girlfriend, something I am mostly cool with. It's not a jealously thing as much as it's a your-ex-is-a-giant-d-bag thing. They talk occasionally and we run into her at the various gay clubs in town, as there is a limited selection. We also hang with a crowd of their exes every once in a while. They have a whole L Word-Chart-BFF-with-my-ex sort of thing going on, which is fine with me.
However, I am not friends with my last gf, and when [...]
A girl I dated mentioned that her ex lived on a great corner in the West Village in NYC. For those of you who don't know, that's more glamorous than my little spot in Brooklyn. And I bet his entire apartment looked like a CB2 catalog (I wish I could do that). I bet his bed was so comfortable and always spotless.
That's it, that's the end of the thought. Rich is imagining the absence of [...]