Not-So-Amusing Amusement Park Rides

Welcome to the Myopic Emotional Rollercoaster. Please keep all hands and arms inside the car while the ride is in motion.

I've been a bit of a wreck today. I'm suffering from post Roger Mexico separation disorder.

Please secure all loose items.

As I had feared, the last goodbye surpassed all others in severity. We had to make a stop at the bankmart at Kroger's before we did anything (I had attempted to cash his tax refund check before he left, and the bank sent it back to me with instructions that we both had to be present to cash it. Yeah, like I'm going to cash a fraudulent check at the bank I work for.), and after that we headed off to Arlin's for a beer. The finality tension was still there, and once again we found ourselves making small talk about things that didn't really matter all that much. There was so much I wanted to say, but the idea of doing it in the middle of a happy hour crowd just didn't appeal to me. Well, that and I didn't want to start crying into my Bass.

After a while, he suggested we go somewhere where we could talk, away from the drunken Cliftonites, so we headed up to Mt. Storm Park. The sun was setting, and the last of the other park-goers were leaving for the night, so we pretty much had the place to ourselves. Not that it mattered much; we didn't leave the car. And after a few minutes of awkward silence, the emotional dam burst and we both started talking about how much our friendship meant to each other, and how much we were going to miss each other. And the entire time I found myself trying not to burst into tears while I watched the clock on the dashboard and held onto my friend for dear life. 15 more minutes. 15 more minutes and he's off to have dinner with his other friend and crash on someone's couch so he can leave early to get on the road to his new life.

I kept telling him that I didn't want to monopolize his time, that if he had to get going to meet up with his other friend, he should just take me back to his car. And the entire time I was lying. I did want to monopolize his time. I wanted to spend every last minute he had in Cincinnati by his side. I wanted to be the last person he saw before he hit the road.

We seldom get what we want in life, though. He dropped me off at my car and continued on to dinner. I texted him later about the lie I'd told him, and felt like a complete idiot the entire time I was typing it out on my phone, the entire time I waited for a reply. (I immediately followed the text with an apology for interrupting his dinner and quality time with the other friend.) He texted back that it was OK, and that he ws going to miss me too. I guess to some extent he understood.

I still felt like an idiot, though.

My sleep was not restful, and I napped on the couch through Saturday morning cartoons. After realizing that my afternoon TV choices were between infomercials, sports, and the African Heritage Network showing of Krush Groove (watching Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee try to come up with something intelligent to say about this dubious cinematic masterpiece was hilarious), I decided to venture out of the apartment to see a movie.

Warning: massive bipolar dips and incongruous tangents ahead.

I had originally decided to go see Memento, but once I reached the theater, I rethought my decision. Apparently it's one of those movies that demands the viewer's full attention, and since I was pretty scatter-brained I changed my plans to Shrek or Moulin Rouge. Since I was feeling the need for company, I sent a text to Zappagirl and Timmy (who's in town for a few days), inviting them to join me. We eventually decided to see Shrek, but at the theater closer to them, leaving me with an hour or two to kill at the mall.

Let me just say that I'm not exceptionally fond of shopping malls. I'd worked a few stints at this particular mall, and walking around it just depressed me more. The store I had worked at a few years ago was gone, and the location was still vacant. The Store of Knowledge was gone as well (apparently, they'd filed for bankruptcy a while back), and The Museum Company and The Nature Company seemed to have little to interest me on this visit. Games People Play apparently bit the dust as well. Frustrated by this, I headed down the street to the Cost Plus World Market.

I love Cost Plus. It's like Pier One for people on a budget. I hung out in the aromatherapy candle aisle, until the combination of relaxation/invigorating/balance herbs motivated me to drive to the theater across town.

Shrek was wonderful. If you haven't seen it yet, go now. I'm a sucker for fairy tales, especially ones that break the rules. (I've even written one of my own, for what it's worth. And a personal aside to Roger Mexico - I'm sorry that your character is such a jerk in that story. I was mad at you when I wrote it, and well, you were being a jerk back then. You fare much better in my as-yet-unfinished novel, if it's any consolation.) The computer animation is dazzling, and it's witty and goofy and touching to boot. I spent the last half hour of the movie sobbing my eyes out, mostly because one of the songs that they use in the movie is Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah." It comes at a particularly poignant moment in the movie, but it mostly got me because that song is (in my opinion) one of the most beautiful songs ever written, and the version they used in the movie was the John Cale one. Hearing it in the movie made me think of Roger Mexico, since he was the person who introduced me to the Velvet Underground. So even though I went to an animated fairy tale comedy to escape my grief, it snuck into the theater with me, hanging onto the hem of my soccer mom sundress.

(I was also happy that the movie soundtrack included a song by eels, my favorite band that next to no one else has ever heard of. Which makes me wonder where my copy of Daisies of the Galaxy has gone. But I digress....)

And somehow after the movie was over, I ended up coming home with Zappagirl and Timmy for coffee, which turned into a much longer than expected visit. As I type this, we're waiting on a delivery from LaRosa's.

I feel kind of bad about being here. Zappagirl and Timmy haven't seen each other in some time, and instead of getting to spend quality time with each other, they're stuck baby-sitting manic depressive me. So I suck as a friend, but I'm glad they've been here today.

I wish JohnnyB was back. (He gets back this week - hooray!) If he was here, I could have called him and rechannelled my sadness through the Playstation. I think a few rounds of EvilZone would have been quite therapeutic this afternoon. (This, by the way, is the only game I have had any success in playing - minimal button requirements on the controller. As a child of the Atari age, I don't do well with anything more complicated than a joystick and a single button.)

It's after 10 pm now. Roger Mexico should be home, in his new apartment. The kitties should be exploring their new surroundings. More than anything, I want to call him and tell him that even though it's only been 24 hours, I miss him more than I thought possible. Unfortunately, I have no way to reach him. I don't even think he's got his phone hooked up at the new place, and if he does, I don't have the number yet.

Please wait until the ride comes to a full stop before exiting. Thank you for riding, and enjoy your day at Dysfunctional-land.

Please tell me this is going to get easier. Not that I'd believe it right now.