Tuesday, May 18, 2010

How Can I Convince Her That I'm Invented Too?

Things are now starting to wind down with my first post-marriage girlfriend. We knew from the beginning that it wouldn't be forever. There are just too many complications and we're both too old, her especially, to let things like feelings knock us off the path of what we must do. Seriously, she's like 70 or something.

We're both slaves to our obligations, unfortunately. It's the oldest story going. I'm a newly-single father of three boys, bound by fatherly obligation to keep them in an environment with which they are familiar, close enough to have access to their mother and maintain a level of sane security that will help usher them through this time of upset and trauma. And she, well, she has a staff of four people just to manage all her hats. And the ribbons at the opening ceremonies for refurbished wings of hospitals for racehorses, do you think they cut themselves? And all she has to do, she has to do with the embarrassment of living tax-free on a giant pile of money ensuring no descendent of hers will have to put in an honest day's work for a thousand years. That's a lot to carry around. I've seen it up close and the emotional toll is harrowing. Especially with no makeup.

I live in California and cannot do otherwise. She is London-based and... well, she's really free to do whatever she wants what with no job and unlimited resources. But the sunlight out here, it just doesn't agree with her. Sometimes if she's backlit just right, she's like a barreleye fish. I find being able to see her internal organs working endearing. Children, however, they will sometimes scream.

So she's going back. I imagine it's for the best. I can say I've learned a great deal about myself during out time together. I've learned that I can be a fully-realized adult, able to express thought-out opinions in adult company. I learned there exists a world outside of just family and routine, exploding with nearly infinite possibilities and admixtures for entertainment and culture.

Lastly, and most importantly, I learned that the very nice men with Royal Protection will not give you two warnings when you approach their charge's car in the dark of night with your hands in your pockets. Very professional, those lads, not very apologetic, but johnny-on-the-spot with the call for emergency services. I'll miss you guys. I only wish you'd missed me.

Goodbye, HRHAPRUKGBNI. You've given me so much. I guess the best way to sum it all up is to say, I would have taken a personal check.

10 comments:

kittens not kids said...

I could have gone my whole life without ever seeing, or knowing about, that hideous, terrifying fish. Thanks for the nightmares!
(though I must say, I kind of feel BAD for that fish, with everyone all staring at his insides. no privacy anymore in this world).

sorry to hear about the end of your fling with HRHetc. but that conquest should surely make for a great entry (or two or three) in your praise journal.

Katherine Zander said...

Really? Lights on with a barrel-eye fish-like Englishperson?

Wow, you are brave. Or blind. (Or lonely).

BTW, Flight of the Conchords are coming to Vegas.

Ok, this is funny. My word verification is metory. How fitting! I guess you aren't quite over her yet, or rather, maybe I'm going further up the Kinsey scale and perhaps a little too happy that she's available again?

Poplicola said...

KnK: I'm sure the fish looks at us and finds our non-transparent heads repulsive and suspicious. What could we possibly have to hide with all our unnecessary opacity?

Kay-Z: FotC are also coming to the Hollywood Bowl May 30. Which, coincidentally, I am as well. Although less in the performance capacity so much as the paying audience one. Still, quite a coincidence.

And if you're really going bi, you could do so much better. I'd go with Scandinavian royals, for a start.

SJ said...

My word verify is 'zoolslum.' A cross between the Ghostbuster baddie and that movie about dancing kids from India, one who fell in that gross pool of poo about ten minutes in and therefore tainted the entire movie for me, so, no, I did not like that movie so much, thank you for asking.

I'm sorry I'm late to HRH going the long goodbye. Grown up relationships are cool, so good that you had it while it was good, no? I will never count marriage as a grown up relationship again. (I've had 2 of them, I know these things)

mrgumby2u said...

Wht is it with Danny Boyle and poo, anyway? I've seen two movies in my life in which somebody submerses himself in a pool of poo, and they were both directed by Danny Boyle. I hope this guy works out his issues before making any more movies.

Sorry, I don't really have anything to say about the blog entry.

SJ said...

Mr. Gumby, OH MY GOD, did he direct the heroin movie with Obi Wan in it? The poo in that movie was disgusting as anything ever. Except the Indian kid disgusting.

mrgumby2u said...

Yeah, that was him. I finally got around to seeing it just a few months before I finally got around to seeing Slums of New Delhi, or whatever it was called, and two poo-swimming scenes in such order was way too much for me.

At least Spielberg has the good taste not to completely submerse somebody on poo.

Katherine Zander said...

A Dan Boyle was my good friend in High School, and I don't ever recall the fellow having the remotest fascination with excrement, at least, around me. Who knows what boys do when girls aren't around? Apparantly, they create poop-filled cinema. Yay for poop-free chick flicks.

Hey, is there a regional vernacular for poop? We say poop 'round these parts, but elsewhere it's called poo? I like that term, "poo" - makes it sound so much more flouncy and less sticky.

mrgumby2u said...

I guess I say poop (hey puppy, do you have to poop?) but write poo. Don't know why. Lazy right ring finger, maybe.

Our host will be thrilled with the direction this thread has taken.

Poplicola said...

I am thrilled with the direction this thread has taken.