think of this entry as the whiny, co-dependent significant other you've always wanted
December 14, 2003, 9:34 pm

Psst. C'mere. I've got something to tell you.

No, don't be scared. Please. Please don't. I just want to talk. I don't know, just things.

See, I spent all afternoon with a lot of elementary school teachers in my house. There were about thirty women and five were pregnant and pretty and the others were older, settled, dragging their bewildered husbands around by invisible nooses around their necks. I inadvertently said something inappropriate when I stared at a lady's chest and said, "Nice top." I meant her shirt, of course, but I think her computer-geek husband and she thought I meant something else.

I took a lot of coats. I smiled. I put on a "thanks for being sympathetic" half-smile, half-smirk whenever someone said, "Oh Jessica, I know this year has been rough for you, but really, you're so GOOOD with those kids." I managed to surpress my amusement that my mom, ever the life of the party, decided to abandon organizing for once and got a bit tipsy on the white zinfadel. I really wanted her to squawk at her principal how much she loathed her, but to no avail.

How you ever been surrounded by too many tasteful and/or Christmas-themed knit twin-sets? Have you ever been subjected to too many eyes surveying your weight now, your naked left ring-finger, your poor choice of lipstick? Maybe you have, and maybe I am being melodramatic, but I do know that I felt uncomfortable. As nice as these women with their personality-devoid hubbies and their penchant for only eating a small amount of three things from the buffett are, I know somewhere they may pity me as I pity them.

This is what I want to ask you...wait, don't walk away while I'm talking to you, just listen. Do you think it's okay that I'm sad tonight? Do you think it's okay that I don't want to go to school tomorrow? Do you think it's okay that I'm upset that the Ravens lost, and that I'm upset that my dad won't let me marry Ray Lewis, and that I'm sad that the roads aren't frozen anymore? Is it all right if I feel good that I'm not going to eat a brownie before I go to bed, but opt to drink a glass of water? Would you give fiestada a hug if I asked you to do so? (She needs one, you know. I'm scared for her.) Are you annoyed? Are you tired? Are you mad at me for not sending out my Christmas cards just yet?

See, because I want you to like me. I want to tell you so many things...so many things. I want to say what's really wrong with me and what's really bothering me and what I want to do with my life, but I've forgotten how. I haven't been funny because there's nothing funny about staying in on Friday night because you need to make Christmas cards and you have no car. There's nothing funny in falling asleep at 10:00pm because you're just worn out from the week. There's nothing funny about staying in on Saturday and cleaning your room all day. There's nothing funny about a house full of elementary school teachers who don't even want to turn on the karaoke machine.

I'm timid and shy and I have a closet full of dirty, smoke-addled, crumpled clothes that I don't feel like washing. I want to just sit and watch CNN and try to be happy that maybe my life will change a bit because my soldiers captured Saddam Hussein, and I'm glad they did.

I don't know if you can understand what it is to be sitting where I am right now and waiting for someone to tell me how I feel. I guess that's why I'm asking you.