Skeet is here

Skeet is here.

Have I ever mentioned that I have the best group of friends in the whole world? I do. I know that no one believes me when I say that, but it's true.

Skeet is here visiting for a week. I'm working, and so he's on his own during the day, but I think he's enjoying that; Skeet works in Nashville as a waiter and lives in a big house full of people, and I think he's rarely alone in his everyday life. He's going to museums and seeing things he's always wanted to see - dinosaurs and mummies and sculptures.

We've known each other for nearly 15 years now, and this is the most time we've hung out together in almost ten years. We're having a marvelous time, walking around the city and trying to figure out what I should do with my life. Skeet is the perfect friend to have around for that kind of decision making, because he knows the truth about me: I generally do whatever the hell I want. Skeet's the same way.

Somehow, without meaning too, I've come to another big crossroads, a place where I have to make a ton of decisions about where I'm going to live and how I'm going to live. I love my life right now, living in Little 5, but I worry about my job, and of course my love life is frighteningly stable lately. The Rebuplican is getting ready for even more commitment, or maybe he's just going to step up his level of gift-giving. It's all very confusing. The Republican and I are starting to plan around each other, and it makes me a little queasy, because of course I'm worried about making plans around another person. I'm not used to the men in my life being stable.

Except, of course, for the guys I knew in High School, like Skeet and Cairy and Virgil, who are all terribly stable. They're still basically who they've always been, and somehow I'm lucky enough to still be in contact and in good graces with all of them. When I think about the types of men I've had in my life, I know I'm lucky not to have turned into a total man-bashing bitch. If you've ever wondered why I keep dating, how I stay attracted to men, take a look at the guys I knew in High School and know: I never stopped looking for men just like these.

I came home from work Monday just bawling my eyes out, crying and sobbing because I feel like I'm a bad worker. I've never had a job before that made me feel so bad so often. I'm used to being the *best* worker, the worker that the boss brags on, the top seller in my store, the one you want at the front desk to greet people, the kid everyone knows is going to shine the brightest. But at this job I just can't seem to get things right lately, and it's killing me. I want to do a good job, and I worry that I may never get things right, even though my employer seems confident that eventually I will. It's such a huge workload and so intimidating that it amkees me emotional in uncharacteristic ways. People who know me know, I'm not a crier. I didn't even cry at Steel Magnolias.

Skeet was here, and he was the best while I used up a whole box of kleenex and then wore the box as a festive hat. We made stupid jokes about my next career selling tissue box hats, and then went out and played pin ball. And the next night, after I went out on the porch and talked to The Republican at some length, I came back in and apologized for being an inconsiderate host, but Skeet pretended to cry.

"No! It's my night to cry!" He said.

"Oh, Ok then, I'll take tomorrow and you can have Thursday...If we're crying in shifts."

"Thursday's no good for me."

"Well, maybe we could double up tomorrow, both of us could watch Angel and cry."

"Yeah, because they're canceling the series."

"Ok, so we both cry Wednesday at Angel and then take Thursday off, and Friday we can get drunk and cry because we're getting old."

"I was just thinking we should get drunk and cry Friday! That would be perfect! It'll make the drive back Saturday just right!"

"And then we can cry Saturday because it's the last day of your vacation."

"Yeah."

Big hugs.