Chapter 11 – Welcome to Blahdom

Chapter 11 – Welcome to Blahdom

Saturday, January 7th, 2012

My feelings and emotions are wildly conflicted so I’m spending the weekend alone. I sent Karma a text message early this morning to bail out of tonight’s dinner. I inform her that I’m not feeling well enough to go out. Karma is, of course, sure that I’m lying.

She knows me well.

She’s also less than pleased that I’m cancelling out same-day. However, I explained that I’m just not in the entertaining type of mood and that’s that. I am certainly not ready to talk to her regarding my troubles with Jim. Partially because I know exactly what she would say. After all, she’s Karma. She’s brutal and blunt.

I’m not ready for that.

In short, I am a hot mess, for lack of a better term, and need to be confined in the strict privacy of my abode.

Patrick, the sweetheart he is, was kind enough to send a delivery boy over with some get-well donuts for me. I love that man and fully support any relationship he wishes to pursue with my BFF. The donuts are magical. They’re warm and sugary and I just want to bury my face in their doughy goodness.

What? Too much?

Alright well I surely cannot allow freshly baked marble iced donuts to go to waste. They would stand in as breakfast.

By time the evening rolls around I’ve watched the Mission Impossible movies (I don’t care how crazy Tom Cruise is now. I still love watching him.) and I caught a few daytime shows.

Saturday nights are prime nights to order out so when the evening rolls in I order a large pizza (all for myself) from the best Italian joint in the Ft. Lauderdale beach area. I’m being difficult when ordering because I’m just in the mood to be difficult (see why I need to stay home). What I’d like is three toppings but not piled on in layers. I want the pizza split in thirds: one third with extra cheese, the middle with spinach, and the last third with pepperoni. Times are rough. I have to have this pizza. Laugh if you must but the gent at the Italian restaurant is more than happy to accommodate the request. And, by the way, he says it has been done before. Here I am thinking I’m being original.

The pizza arrives and I shovel it in my mouth disregarding any cares for fat, grease, or carbs. It’s officially a fat day! You know, kind of like fat jeans or fat shirts – for those days when you feel especially bloated and well … fat.

Sitting on the floor with the pie box on my lap and cold beer by my side I eat and think, eat and obsess.  Life is now complicated, just when I think everything was falling into place. But then again it always seems to get messy right before things start to pick up; when your life is on the teetering point of the rollercoaster, the part where your hands are in the hair and you’re ready to be free and enjoy the ride.

Sunday, January 8th, 2012

It’s a new day and I need to liven up my mood. Living by the beach certainly has health benefits. I’m taking a nice long walk on the soft sand to clear my mind. The fresh air and warm sunshine relaxes my body and calms the nerves. The sounds of crashing waves onto the shoreline grease the wheels in my head and inspire me to exercise a more flexible and fun subject – a new blog post.

I’ve been spending the day consuming pots of coffee, eating (fat day has rolled over), and creating new blog posts covering awesome Eryn Carlo clothes and accessories.

Saving the draft for Eryn Carlo’ brightly colored canvas totes, I run to the kitchen to check on my once-frozen vegetable lasagna in the oven.


“Oh!” I yell and run back to my phone. Incoming text! My phone has been so quiet this weekend that the whistle sound was music to my ears.

It’s a text from the infamous Jim Rhodes: Made it home. Still on for dinner tomorrow night? Looking forward to seeing you.

Strange that I haven’t heard from him until now. Zero communication all weekend but I wouldn’t dream of mentioning that right now. We’re not even an official item … yet. Or will we ever be? I sigh. It’s not like I had tried contacting him. Should I have? Maybe that’s why he didn’t keep in touch? Guys don’t think of that kind of stuff right? Maybe his family kept him busy.

Or his ex-girlfriend.

I groan, a frown creasing my forehead. What to do?

It takes me about half an hour to decide on what I should reply with. I decide on keeping it simple: Yes. Still on for dinner. Looking forward to seeing you too.

As far as he knows there are no issues so I don’t want to raise suspicions just yet. I need this opportunity to observe him. This is his chance to prove everyone wrong.

He informs me that our dinner reservations are set for 7pm and that he will pick me up at 6:45pm and not a second later.

Hmm. It sounds as if he missed me. But if he missed me why hadn’t I heard from him the last couple days.

Beauty sleep is definitely a priority tonight.

Out comes the nighttime beauty prep kit. While the Crest whitestrips do their job on my teeth I spray my hair with a wave enhancing concoction and twist sections of my hair, pinning them so they can stay put overnight. I crawl into bed and bury myself in the softness of the sheets and comforter. The scent of eucalyptus spearmint envelopes me and pulls me gently into a peaceful slumber.

Monday, January 9th, 2012



I play with the decadent slice of velvety chocolate mousse cake between us. “What’s taking so long for a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on the fashion column proposal? Why February?”

“Sweetheart I told you. They just need more time.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Have I told you yet how pretty you look tonight? I missed you.”

I smile and try to ignore the lurking, nagging, warning voice in the back of my mind. “Thank you. That is really sweet. I missed you too. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too.” He caresses my hand.

I press forward. “So, I know that you said they need additional time but when did you send it to them?”

“Soon after you gave it to me. Why? Are you doubting me?” He sets his fork down a little too heavily.

“No, it’s not that. Of course it’s not that.”

“Ok then what is it?” He’s in defense mode leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.

Wow. “Well, it’s just that I ran into one of the VPs in the elevator and thanked him for the opportunity. He looked at me with a blank stare so I was thinking maybe he hasn’t seen my article yet. I’m not trying to be pushy. I’m curious – it’s my nature.”

“What? Why did you do that?!”

“Why not? I wanted to say thank you. I’m extremely grateful. I also figured mentioning it would help to bring it to the forefront of their mind. That’s all. It was sincere. Promise.”

“You can’t just do that, Lucy!” Restaurant patrons glance in our direction.

“Don’t yell at me.” I speak low to avoid attracting further attention.

The waitress clears the table and leaves the check. She’s probably hoping it moves us out quickly so we can continue our disagreement elsewhere.

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are, Jim. I don’t understand why you’re angry with my thanking the VP. More people should say it.”

“I sure hope you didn’t ruin anything.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look. Let’s get out of here.” He drops some cash on the table and stands to leave.


We drive back to my apartment in silence and instead of parking he pulls up to the front of the building.

“Would you like to come in?” I ask, trying to salvage the evening. Why? I’m not sure. With the attitude he’s imparting I should just get out of the car and not bother looking back. He’s hiding something – hence why he is annoyed with me.

“No. I’m going to go home.”

This may be a new relationship but I’m hurt. New or old, being treated like this is never enjoyable. Our first argument. I suppose it was inevitable. “Why don’t you want to stay?”

“Because this night has gone completely downhill.” He won’t even look at me.

“So you’re just going to leave angry? I hear that’s not healthy.” I attempt to reach for his hand but he begins fidgeting with the radio.

“No. I’m not angry.” He turns his cold stare toward me and speaks smoothly, “I’m awesome.” And there it is, ladies and gentlemen. Sarcasm and insult. Daggers in the form of words.

“I see.” Tears sting my eyes. I climb out of his luxury car and turn to say goodbye but he’s already leaving the driveway.

I stand there frozen for some time thinking about the evening. I try to justify Jim’s behavior.

Maybe he was tired from traveling? Is that really a valid excuse?

What do I believe? Who do I believe?

And do I really have the right to be upset with him for seeing someone else?

No. He’s not officially my boyfriend.

However, I was hoping he liked me enough to want to stop spending time with others. I know in my gut what the right answer is but I don’t want to consider it. Not right now. So I ignore the feelings and walk up to my apartment. I pour a nightcap and sit at my desk staring out at the vast dark ocean.

I call out of work on Tuesday and Wednesday and ignore all calls from coworkers, even Karma. I ignore life in general.

Jim neglects to make amends or put forth any effort into contacting me.

I can’t say I’m surprised.

Instead of resorting to excessive moping, I lean on my passion. It’s always there waiting for me in the background – my love for Eryn Carlo. I post blog entries on Eryn Carlo jewelry, clutches, handbags, shoes, and anything and everything else to do with Eryn Carlo. That Band-Aid will cover the emotional wounds until Thursday morning. I’ll have to face reality whether I like it or not. My paycheck is-a-calling.


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