The Weekend of Tragicomedy

:( Tragic: The Yukkell telling me he will marry (someone else) in June. He prefers the "old lady" and eight sad little (fatherless) pigtails.

:) Comedy: Spending all day Saturday in a bar where people are dressed as Guinness bottles and cans. Waved at by the bottle, toasted by the bottle, all the while believing that Beer likes me (the Sally Field kind of humbling you-really-like-me)...and feeling at home.

Later, attend a wine inventory reduction party (not in the spirit of Reduce-Reuse-Recyle but "I live a life of Excess and you can have some of my riches") and do my part not to disappoint.

At some point in the day, thinking you lost your purse, calling the bar from the taxicab wondering if purse is left behind, sending the bar staff on a hunt for the "missing" purse only to discover that you've been sitting on it the whole time. At what point in the day did I lose all feeling in my ass?

Amusing myself with how much better that story would have been if I had just called my ass.

Brunch on Sunday with The Yukkell. Drag queens, bloody marys, wasabi cucumbers....remembering - and already missing - Him as part of the equation of Us - as this could be the last time you share his company. As he lingers around, you know he feels it too.

Finally, deciding to unilaterally put an end to the despressing winter by wearing my new open-toe wedge sandals.....new shoes = new attitude = new beginning? (Do I have a choice?)