Monthly Archives: October 2005

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“Underwear in my backpocket, sure sign of the morning after”

I had one of my worst days yesterday. Found out I didn’t get a job I have been dreaming about since May. Two close friends of mine got the job over me, which is a whole new kind of confusing: feeling of disappointment for me but happiness for them mixed with trying to read this manual on how to cut someone’s brake lines. Talk about confusing. No matter how hard you try to prepare yourself you can never really know how it’s going to hit you until it happens. Kris and Shoshana, remember our Superpower discussion? One of my superpowers was getting every job I ever interviewed for. A much more useful super power than my text messaging and typing power. Alas, the glorious reign has ended.

On a more humorous note, since I looked and felt like crap all day yesterday I decided to dress up today so I can try that whole “Look good on the outside and maybe it will help me feel good on the inside” dealio. I may have made that up, but I have a sneaking suspicion my mom whispered it into my crib at night. Needless to say, I looked good today and felt much better. I forgot my blue shirt which immediately makes people think you are dressed up, but I also had a skirt on and ass-kickin’ boots, as well as a little mascara (gasp!). Many a compliment was given to me throughout the day and my spirits were lifting. I honestly couldn’t believe how much better I was handling things today in comparison to yesterday’s hourly cry in the bathroom and clothes that smelt like a bar (had to drink my sorrows away a bit the night before).

Even as I was walking to use the restroom for its actual purpose instead of as a giant kleenex, I thought to myself, “You’ve made it through and you’re over it. You’ve pulled your shit together. Well done, Toftie.” A few minutes later I was looking down at my underwear around my knees (they’re never really at your ankles) and thought, “Well, Toft, you spoke too soon.” Underwear on inside out. Underneath it all…I was still a mess.

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With this kitchen, I thee wed.

Here I am in Spokane and my brand new house sits empty. I have boxes in the garage I didn’t bother to unpack, but I did set up my bed so if I decide to come home some weekend I’ll have a place to crash. My lovely next door neighbors, Dave and John, let the couch guys in so at least I have a couch, but really it’s just empty.

If it weren’t for my longing to live in my house, I actually like being in Spokane. My mom’s whole family is here and she’s the oldest of eight so you can just imagine the Catholicism at work here. This weekend I visited many relatives and helped move some of my grandparents stuff into their new place, but the best part of the whole weekend was playing with my cousin Denie’s two kids. Max and Ella are so clever and sweet. I wanted to pack them up and take them home. People have pointed out that the ticking of my clock is interrupting their conversations. Sorry. Never thought it would happen.

Until (if?) I follow the path of marriage and family, I have this house. People keep asking me if I feel any differently owning a house. What I realized is that I feel like I just married Seattle. It’s as if Seattle proposed to me a few years back and I thought long and hard about it, dated a few other cities, had a couple one night stands with some little towns, and flirted with a bunch of other states, until finally I said, “Alright Seattle, I think I do love you, let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

The truth is it’s all about the kitchen. When I was dating this guy a couple years ago, we used to joke that the only way he could get me to marry him was to build a beautiful master suite above his house. That sounds so materialistic of me, but well, I don’t know how to defend myself except that I knew it was a safe bet he wasn’t going to do that. My point is that Seattle wooed me with this beautiful kitchen and I was sunk. So here it is and here I am and all is good. Seattle and I shall have many a dinner party together in our kitchen of love.