RBOC: Saturday Night and I Ain't Got Nobody

• The title of this post seems maudlin, now that I look at it, but I mean it more in the joyous way that I always respond to the song of those lyrics. I always feel like that's an awesome song, and one that's not really a lonely song in its vibe, even if it is in its lyrics. And god, I so love Sam Cooke. Is it weird to love Sam Cooke? I mean, I really love him as much as maybe any singer alive or dead (though in the same company in my head as Van Morrison, John Lee Hooker, Johnny Cash, Led Zeppelin, and maybe either Liz Phair (Exile in Guyville primarily) or Sinead O'Connor (really the whole oeuvre), and I know those last two may seem bizarre to include, but they are in my Desert Island Discs, such as they are). My point here, though, is that I'm writing this post on a Saturday night and sitting at home with my wee Man-Kitty and myself alone as I do it. Not in a sad way... just that's the reality of the situation. Although I didn't just get paid, because I only get paid once a month, just like somebody on welfare or social security, which is very annoying. But whatever.
  
• So I did go to the pool today, and got much accomplished there (including becoming vaguely tan! huzzah!) and then went out to dinner with BFF. I'll so miss BFF when she moves away, but given the fact that most of my best friends are long-distance, I'm not terribly worried over it. I know it's a good move for her, and I also know that staying here is good for me (which, weirdly, her new job made me realize, to some extent).
  
• So then I came home, and I caught up with a friend with whom I'd not chatted in a while, and, happily, she is In LOVE - capital L-O-V-E. A. From everything she describes I would totally be best friends with the New Love, and B. I'm so happy that she's happy. Now, it's true that I agree with BFF that in order to fall madly in love one has to turn off a large portion of one's brain, and thus this is worthy of contempt (of a kind), but I'm enough of a romantic to think that alongside that contempt (in my withered, cold, embittered heart) that the whole thing is totally awesome. In other words, I'm totally making fun of my friend while at the same time being totally thrilled for her. I think that this is as it should be.
• You may be wondering about the Romantic Stylings of Crazy. You know, it's been occurring to me lately that I don't... reveal much about my "personal" life on this here blog, even as I whine and complain and appear to be "raw" here (for whatever such a designation may be worth). Well, here's the short version: it's not really been my focus of late. The thought of making that part of my life my focus is totally exhausting to me, and thus it's exhausting to write about. But here's the deal: so you all know that there was a Fake Boyfriend (aka The Interloper), and then we had a Fake Lockdown, and then I posted cryptic poetry for a while (for around 10 weeks, in fact, as Fake Boyfriend noted, when we got back in touch), and now, well, here's the deal: FB (aka, the Muse, for a minute-and -an-emasculating-half) and I talk all the time, though we've not seen one another in a year. And he is the one and only person in my life who I think gets all of the parts of me totally, and yet we're decidedly not together, in any conventional sense. And unlike back in the days when he really was my FB, I am actually not pushing for us to be together in any way, conventional or unconventional. The reality is that I don't know, really, what he is to me, other than that he's important and that he truly is in my inner circle of Peeps Who Are Fixtures. Do I want more? I don't know. It's impossible so I don't think about it. Or if I do think about it, I think about it in impossible terms. And that's actually ok now, where it wasn't back in olden times when I was trying to force it To Be Possible. Now, I'm not going to lie: if there were some way for it not to be impossible? I'd do it in a second. But the reality is that the circumstances (and the people - and cats - involved, too) are what they are. And so the reality is that sooner or later I'll have to do the online dating again or whatever. Because as far as life plans go, being true to an FAKE boyfriend isn't the highest on my priority list. There are things I want that (at least as far as I know) aren't possible with the person in question. And yet, I love him, and he loves me, but, well, it's not to be. And so, for the moment, we are what we are. And either we will manage to make it through one or the other of us securing "real" relationships, or not. But I hope we do, because losing him? I'd hate it. And beyond hating it, I'm not sure how I'd survive it. And the only other time I felt that was was with my First Love, and since I managed to stick him firmly in my life, against his will, at the time, I don't actually know what it would be to lose a person that central. And so yeah, I know I'm in a fucked up situation, but that's what it is. And obviously I'm thinking very hard about how to get out of it, and yet I seem to be incapable of just cutting the whole thing off. Why? Because obviously as pragmatic as I claim to be, and as chill as I claim to be about the whole thing, I want to be with him. Because I'm an idiot.
• Whew! Look at that for the confessional blogging. But so yeah, that's the personal life stuff. In other news, Lebanon's on, after the news of this week, (which yes, leaves "Hezbollah stronger" but which also means that there won't be crazy bombings and kidnappings and civil war and such, in theory) and thus Stepdad and I are planning our Grand Trip to the Homeland (which is not my homeland technically, but which is in terms of my upbringing, mine). We are both so excited! And we're wicked excited because we're going together without my mom! I mean, I love my mom, but this is so awesome! It will be grand! Me and Stepdad! Touring the world! Hurrah!
• Of course, my mom is trying to make me jealous now by claiming that she'll go visit my (horrible-trying-to-steal-my-parents) cousin in Florida. You know what I have to say to that? Beirut, baby! Suck it! Gina is so not as cool as me!
• Yes, I know it's lame that I care about that, but my cousin Gina is a tool. That's just a fact. And she never pays for anything when she's with my mom, and it pisses me off. Dude, I've got to pay, both with money and with portions of my spirit, and I begrudge her.
• So, as you know, this was to be the weekend of A. and Crazy 2008, but her boyfriend's dad died, and thus the family death intervened in the plans. I suspect it will happen in two weeks' time.
  
• I feel as if I should delete the whole bullet about FB, but I also feel that it totally belongs in this post, as it is what's the deal with me and him currently, and thus what is the deal with me right now. So maybe delete it in your head, as that would make me feel better, maybe. Or if you choose to comment on it, be nice and don't try to advise me about how he sucks. He truly doesn't suck. Truly.
• That said, he's annoying because both he and my mom continually badger me about 1) the Award that I'm up for (Shouldn't you have heard by now? Every. Fucking. Day.) and 2) the New Kitty. Dude, to both of them: Don't you think I'd call you up about either of those things? I mean, they'd be like the most important things in my life! I'd not just ignore them! And I call you two assholes about every other thing, why would I leave those out?
  
• So I guess those are the random bullets of Saturday night. Tomorrow, I have grand plans for productivity. We shall see if they materialize.