Good Night

I don't know why I do it, really. I mean, I *know*, without one doubt, that eating dairy and wheat and sugar 1) flares my rosacea up and 2) gives me wicked PMS.

So the past couple of days, while on the whole very many very good things happened to me, I've been in a terrible crank. My tits are killing me, my brain is whirling like a manic gerbil around my skull with sheer ridiculousness, and I'm uncomfortably hot. Even before I kissed and kissed and kissed the Born Ruffian and his beard, my face was sore.

With all that cranking, I was convinced that what I needed was a night in. In fact, last night when the BR asked me what was up this weekend, I was adamant about the fact.

And now it's 11 pm and I just finished a cup of coffee.

Turns out I'm having the perfect combination of a night out and a night in. I went with my housemates and out-of-town lovelies for soup and pudding earlier, and it was perfect. Fuschian, across from the Greek Orthodox church, is a great little spot. Good pho, delicious lemongrass beef, the sweetest woman running the place, and the best damn vegan rice pudding I've ever had. Who knew I liked taro so much.

The rest of em went out to some other thing I missed hearing about because I never check facebook any more. M-C went straight to bed, so though I'm not technically home alone, it sure feels like it. I've been cleaning and listening to records, and refilling myself with myself.

I have very few fond memories of my ex, Mike. As my therapist put it, that relationship ended in the red for me. I spent a long time fighting to get myself heard, my needs respected. If you ask me what all things were wrong with that relationship, you'd better be sitting in a comfortable chair.

The list of good things? Well, if I bike by you on a street corner some day, I'll shout them out to you on my way by.

There was a long time where he worked evenings at the Manx. I loved those Friday and Saturday nights. He'd already be at work when I got home, so I'd have the whole night to myself to unwind, futz on the computer, clean up a bit, read, whatever. Then around 10:30 or 11, I'd head out, arrive at the Manx to the warm hugs of the wait staff, a big steamy sweaty kiss from Mike, and I'd perch myself at the bar, start a Guinness, and dive into whatever book I'd tucked under my arm. Mike would come out and make faces at me sometimes, I'd chat with the other regulars, maybe, be entertained by the staff when they were pouring drinks. Alone time, social but quiet time, then fun drinks time with people I love hanging out with.

This is a night like that. Tidying my kitchen tonight, wiping behind the coffee maker and fruit bowls, making a shopping list for early tomorrow, listening to records, futzing on the internet, I felt like I finally clicked back into myself. The BR will be here momentarily, the Party in the Rear not long after that.