odd little bean

i know girls who fantasize about getting married, moving to the suburbs, and coaching the softball teams that their 2.5 kids play shortstop for.

i know girls who fantasize about getting promoted at work and finally making enough money to be able to afford a down payment on a house.

i know girls who fantasize about being iced in diamonds and covered in yachtie hotties.

me? i fantasize about the day i wake up and NOTHING HAPPENS. yup. a day of absolute nothing. no drama. no chaos. no life changes. no frantic phone calls from family members. absolutely and completely nothing. i feel like someone out there must be experiencing those sort of days; i read about them in books all the time.

my nothing day would go something like this:

1. wake up
2. eat some cream of wheat with chedder cheese melted in it (don’t knock it till you try it)
3. put on a fancy frock with ruffles and bows in all the right places
4. invite some chums over for croquet and a tea party
5. take a late afternoon nap
6. eat a burrito and flip through the tv channels, catching a bit of the episode of the nanny where fran walks in on mr. sheffield coming out of the shower
7. go out for an evening stroll with someone fascinating
8. drink a mug of tea and call it a night

ahhhhh the joy of living in a fantasy world.

nothing NEVER happens to me. i am a magnet for everything. everything can’t fricking get enough of me.

last tuesday my dad picked me up from the airport and the first words out of his mouth were, “i’m getting a divorce.” he then informed me that his wife (my step-mom of 27 years) has been having an online affair with her high school sweetheart, and that she is flying to europe to see him in three weeks to see if she likes him more than she likes my father. classy. three days later my sister called me to tell me that she just got engaged AND is getting married in two months. in between all of that, i sold my car, lost my sunglasses and the apartment i wanted in boston, and packed and loaded all of my earthly possessions (minus two suitcases full of stuff) onto a moving van.  oh, and my mom sold her house.  to reiterate, this all happened in ONE WEEK.

i’ve been living with my dad for the past 10 months or so, and as you can imagine, things have been a bit…ummmm…rough since the big infidelity discovery. the words cunt and bitch punctuate nearly every sentence i overhear.  i scarcely flinch when i hear something being thrown.  i no longer get alarmed when i see rows of empty wine bottles on the counter when i wake up in the morning.  and then there’s the paper product thing. last night we ate chinese food and my dad ate his fortune along with his cookie. tonight he did the same thing, but followed it up by eating his gum while it was still in the wrapper. is this some sort of ancient fiber-packing divorce ritual i don’t know about? you would think i would know all of the rituals by now given that my mom is rounding the corner on marriage #4 and my sister who is getting married is already on #2. i can’t turn my head without something happening. WHERE IS MY NOTHING? huge sigh.

i have faith that someday when i least expect it, i’ll hear clippity-clop sounds in the distance, and slowly my nothing will appear.  riding in on a horse made of tinker toys and jellybeans (because this is my fantasy, and i get to make it as weird as i want), nothing will swoop me up off my feet and carry me off into the sunset.  i would finish the story for you, but it’s pretty boring since nothing happens in the end.

no dad chewing up all the junk mail.

no brother making obscene charges on the family credit card under the logic that if his mom moves to europe and takes half of our dad’s money with her, then really it’s in his best interest to spend as much of his parents’ money as possible before to divorce, that way his mom can’t take half of it.  still confused?  my brother says that the easiest way to understand it is just to look at the price of something and divide it in half.  it’s like the world is having a 50% off tag sale.

no moving to a new city without having a place to live yet.

no weddings.

no stomach aches.

no awkward bangs.

no changes.

no alterations.

no nothing.

which brings me to the confusing mobius strip section of the whole thing.  how can nothingness contain no nothing?  by definition, nothingness is made up of nothing, and nothing is something.  i’m probably just over-tired, but i feel like i just scientifically proved that my fantasy can never become a reality.  this is either the most depressing moment of my life, or a monumental breakthrough; i’m on the fence about it.

never one to have my dreams crushed, i will continue to harbour hope for my 24 hours of uneventfulness. nothing?  are you out there?  i’m not looking for a long term commitment.  i don’t even need you to love me back.  all i’m looking for is one day and one night of wild inaction.  you don’t have to do anything…just lay there.  ummm…and no anal.  obv.  if you so much as poke one finger into my asshole that will count as something, and something is just not what i’m looking for.