Archive for the ‘boundaries’ Category

hetero weirdness
October 10, 2007

Ford joined me for a rousing kickboxing class yesterday afternoon, to which he wore a grey athletic t-shirt and navy mesh shorts. If it weren’t for the addition of white knee socks with royal blue stripes up the sides, he actually would have looked decently butch.

Well he took the socks off because he said they were “encumbering his high kicks.” ::eyeroll:: But when we came back from class, Ford in his sweat stained gray shirt with his hair all messy with sweat, smelling like a wrestling team locker room, the pheromones brought Jane out of her bedroom like a cobra out of a basket.

“Ooh, Ford you’re so sweaty,” she said, a hint of sarcasm still thankfully lingering in her voice, but with an edge of something that made me want to squeal under my breath and wave red flags in the air.

“That’s what happens when you sculpt guns like this, Jane,” he shot back back and flexed. There was a bizarre moment of silence while Jane gazed. I banged some pots in the sink to break the sound of Twilight Zone music playing in my ears.

Fast forward ten minutes, and Jane is taunting Ford about his taste for Watermelon Smirnoff Ice. Whew.

I am choosing not to think too hard on that one for the sake of my own sanity.

Also, re: waitressing for the rest of my life–no. I’m looking into doing nursing school during the day. It seems like every other job I see online is for some kind of nursing job. Or I might try to check out some business management classes. Boring, but necessary if I want to move up in this world from the position of customer service wench. Wish a liberal arts degree meant shit in this world.


date with Alana and other possibilities
October 5, 2007

She sat me down on a plush sofa, brought me a robust glass of red wine, and disappeared back into the kitchen. Then she called me into dinner in this gargantuan dining area, appeared from the kitchen door carrying two square ceramic plates with a supernova-looking aqua glaze, on top of which she had prepared two plates full of vegetarian sushi with pink radish garnish. It was truly edible art.

“Better to be an older man’s princess than a young man’s whore,” my college friend Danielle used to say when we poked fun at her for dating a forty year old. I hate to say it, but I’m starting to see Danielle’s point.

I know Alana has the money to wine and dine me; she’s one of the rare few who can make good money from figure painting. But I don’t want to be someone’s pool girl, like I said. Still, I can’t say I hate being catered to once in a while, considering that I’m on my feet for six or seven hours most days sloshing trayfulls of booze everywhere.

After some relaxing and a rockin’ back rub, I had to set some boundaries.

Darcy: So, if you’re still with your husband, then…I’m also going to date as well.

Alana<pained expression>: If you’d like.

Darcy: Okay. I will.

So I set up a date with Emma, the girl who left her number for me at the bar, this weekend.

The rest of the night at Alana’s was spent looking at photo albums by the light of dimmed lamps and all of these gorgeous candles she has on sconces around the walls. And there was a kiss or two exchanged. But I’m trying to put the breaks on until I can see things a little clearer. I hope I’m not jumping in too deep here. And even if I am, it beats spending the time watching things like it happen on TV.

September 24, 2007

This morning when I was making tea, a stranger came out of Jane’s room. Someone who looked like a cross between K-Fed and the Ghost of Meth Dealer Present. I spent last night researching jobs at the public library, so I had no idea she’d had a guy sleep over. They must have come in after I went to sleep.

He plopped down into a kitchen chair with a kind of half-nod to me, and spread his legs out in only a pair of gross boxers. I try not to judge people by appearances, but I felt really uncomfortable about this guy’s vibes, and even more uncomfortable that Jane had not run this houseguest by me first. He asked me if I had any coffee and I told him “no” and then he just lit a cigarette in the kitchen like it was nothing. I said um, we don’t smoke in our house, and he looked at me with this icy expression and put the cigarette out on the linoleum floor, which thankfully did not make a mark. That sent me to the edge, so it was all I could do not to pick the cigarette up off the floor and relight it in my own mouth. I slammed the door to the bathroom, slapped a nic patch onto my butt, then ran out of the back door, Jane calling behind me.

After I was on the road I called Ford on my cell. He wanted me to come over to his apartment because he said it sounded like I needed to vent.

Ford had to go to class after an hour, so he’s letting me use the computer at his apartment. Ford’s gorgeous loft apartment. In an old warehouse with a brushed steel bar and Ipod speakers exhuding Billie Holiday from every corner. Not a bad way to spend a Monday morning.

I’ve left three messages on Jane’s cell, but she hasn’t called back. I wish job searching was the least of my worries right now…

drinking at Poe’s, first come-on
September 20, 2007

I’m in my bedroom right now. Jane is in the bathroom, showering off the smoke smell. We were too tired to go out after the move so Kara ended up taking us bar hopping last night instead.

The evening air was practically scorching even at 11…I’m still trying to get used to feeling like I live in an Easy Bake. I wore a little jean skirt and this red silky halter I inherited from one of my friends in WVA after she got pregnant…actually, the majority of my cute clothes come from friends who stopped exercising after they got married or shacked up with their boyfriends, or got pregnant. They call it “relationship weight.” It’s a little depressing…but not for my wardrobe!

We started out at a lame sports-bar type place called Teller’s where they were playing this trivia game about 90’s sitcoms, so we knocked off of that pretty quickly. Kara drove us to this other place called Poe’s that had a raven on the sign, like Edgar A. Poe I guess. Inside it had some predictable spider web decorations and red backlighting, but the crowd was good– lively, not too bourgey but not too rough. Some polos, but mostly geeky indie T shirts. No white collars. They had the typical goth-themed drinks; I think my first one was called a Vampire kiss, made from pomegranate juice, a few splashes of triple sec, vodka, and a little wedge of blood orange.

I met a boy. Usually, this is a non-event. I take care of myself physically and I have a brain, and for some guys in bars, the first thing is enough. Really, for most of them, I’d only need the former and about enough cerebral matter for basic motor functions like drinking, brushing my own teeth, and…you can imagine. One. two. And repeat.

Well this boy, or man, I haven’t decided which he is yet, actually tried to hit on me. Did the whole, “can I buy you a second,” right after I’d downed the last swallow of my red cocktail.

Darcy: Actually, I’m good for now.

Dude: Hi, I’m Ford. <awkwardly sweeps hair to the side and offers his hand, I notice his watch from a chic Tokyo designer, Hanako…now I’m slightly interested in chatting>

Darcy: <SIGH> I’m Darcy, and I’m really pleased to meet you, but I’m like, almost 100% gay…so…I’m not really interested in…?

Dude <quietly, blushing, looking down at his feet>: Quoth the Darcy, nevermore!

It was completely awkward but endearing, and I’m a sucker for cheesy literature jokes. So we talked for most of the night. He’s from North Carolina and at Vanderbilt in Med School. He didn’t even try to chat Jane up. I think he legitimately wants to be friends. Or he’s hiding a unicorn horn under that floppy dark brown hair.

east tar pit, wva, to skyline, tn
September 18, 2007

When I step onto the front lawn and look to my right, I can see the Nashville city skyline. I live in a city. With a skyline! Screw the hum of the food processing plant across the street, this is a cosmo location.

Jane and just I rolled into beautiful Nashville about an hour ago this morning to sign our *brand new lease* with our landlord Devon. We stayed in Kentucky last night with one of Jane’s ex-boyfriends, Steven, which was less dramatic than I thought it would be…he made us some delectable curry and we drank some wine and watched “House.” And I only needed one pillow over my head to block out the barbarian moans coming from the other room in order to sleep. I’m only on my third cup of jasmine tea today…so the writing abilities are still a little fuzzy. But I thought I’d try out the wireless connection in the house. Hello out there?