Where have you been?

It's okay to be a ghost; it has its pleasures. You're light. You float. You slip in and out unseen. There's no love to lose. Or burden to be. You have so little to hold you down. You are free.

Some pearls are never found. They hide under the sand, on the ocean floor. No one knows they're there. But the pearl knows. Maybe there was a time he wanted to be found. To be seen, and to be held. But now, only hope hurts.

I am my own secret. A secret kept by me.


- Mike White
 Enlightened, season 2, episode 5

An Open Letter To The Person Who Peed In My Shower

Oh, hey there. You thought I was over this, didn't you? Well, friend, you thought wrong. Secretly, I've been stewing and plotting over this for awhile now. Just waiting for the right moment to strike back at you. Just waiting until it's been long enough that you've probably forgotten about the whole thing entirely, and have no reason to have your guard up. You see, I'm a patient person. I can wait. And I will. I'm going to wait until there's something that you hold dear and sacred, like the purity and cleanliness of a hot shower after a long day, and I'm going to piss all over it. Metaphorically speaking. Maybe.

And you know what? You couldn't just stop there, could you? No. You also decided to later throw a glass of ice water on me while I was enjoy a few moments of solitude in the comfort of the shower.

I realize that we are both of the nature of not knowing the appropriate time to stop escalating a situation. I realize that this is only going to get progressively fucking weird and gross and probably infringing on several health codes and human rights, but whatever. You started this. You know full well my feelings on pee in the shower, and how I think that under all and any circumstances it's disgusting. I don't care how good your aim is, which is not great by the way, it is not all going directly down the drain.

You know what I also enjoy doing in my tub? Taking a bath. I don't really want your urine as company during my bath time, and I'm lazy and don't want to have to clean the tub. Do I come over to your house and take a dump in your sauna? No, I don't, but maybe this is where this will eventually go.

So, friend, I'm just going to let you get comfortable. Go ahead and fall into a nice cozy sense of security. We'll hang out and laugh and have a great time and drink beers and I'll probably even let you borrow my pants again. I'm not even going to bring the shower incident up. Let's leave the past in the past! Let bygones be bygones! Hahahahahahaha! I totally forgot what even happened to make me so cunningly vindictive!!!! WRONG. I didn't. Consider this a promise.

Patiently yours,

Me

xoxo

P.S. Oh, and also, while you were sleeping I went and peed in your wetsuit.

Parting Memories: 12 Steps

It probably took far too long to get here, but here we are nonetheless. I don't need to write about this anymore, and that feels good.

Arrange in chronological order, 1-12:

Home Time

When I woke up that morning, I knew you were here again. I had purposely requested an early shift that day. Months later, after everything happened, I would find an old copy of my shift request form and it would make me have to take a deep exhale to see what I had written under “reason”, and just how excited and happy I had been for you to be home.

When I finished my shift and went to get changed, there it was: a text from you.

Later that night I waited outside your apartment, a place that felt familiar, but that I had not been in so long. I can still feel what it felt like to see you again after so many months. I still remember you pulling me in as we hugged, and you were here and real and warm and my friend and I loved you. I still can’t write these words without getting choked up.

You looked so tired, but relieved, and we kept hugging. It was like I had to make sure that it was really you, and it felt so good just to be able to sit beside you and talk and joke and look at you.

My Christmas/Birthday/Homecoming/Kwanzaa present to you was a stuffed animal duck that quacked, yours to me was a bobble head Pope. I still sometimes give his little head a bob when I need him to tell me, “You got this.”

  

First Time

You were so funny, and you made me laugh in such a genuine way. In front of the museum, down near the shallow ponds, I pulled you towards me, and we kissed for the first time. You were such a good kisser. There were a handful of them that allowed me to understand in real life what they mean in stories when they describe a kiss capable of making time stand still.

A while later you would joke that you thought you were a skilled kisser and also piñata maker. When I said you should kiss me again soon and frequently, so I wouldn't forget, I liked that your reply was "I should, and will." But then that changed.

My Birthday Time

I was approximately 30 minutes late to my own party, and felt embarrassed about that and hoped no one was upset. You looked so sharp, I loved your outfit, and it made me smile that you had gone out and bought a bow tie. I hadn’t seen you in a few weeks, and you were right when you said that you could see what I still felt for you. The truth of it is, those feelings never really disappeared for me.

I knew that you probably felt awkward to be there, maybe didn’t even really want to be there, but I was so happy that you came regardless. That meant a lot to me, even if it was hard to see you and I had to steel myself against the feelings and thoughts and things that I wished had worked out differently.

Cold Hands Time

It was not too long after you were back and we were lying in bed. As is usual at night, my hands were touch-of-death cold. I accidentally touched your bare skin, and my immediate reaction was to pull away and apologize, but then you grabbed my hands, pulled them into your chest, and warmed them with your own.

Your Birthday Time

My work party was the same day as your birthday, or National Holiday, as you called it. We had Skyped the day before; it was the first time I had seen you in months. But the connection was horrible and the video kept cutting out, so we just ended up talking. I told you all about my new dress and you asked me to send you a picture. I never did because the only one I managed to get was of me riding a 6 foot long dragon. You had a party on your ship that night too, but it was a work party and not your birthday party. You said you would fix that. 

You never really said much about your party, I got classy drunk at mine, and I thought about you that night and hoped you were okay. I was regretful that I had missed your call that morning, because I had wanted to wish you Happy Birthday.

Party Time

There was a going away party for a friend/coworker and you joined us part way through the night. From afar I pointed out my sister and a friend that I referred to as “Brother”. Your response was, “Oh. Your brother and sister are… really close.”  My back had been turned to them so what I didn't realize when I pointed out Brother and Sister, was that they had also been drunkenly making out at that exact moment.

You and Brother later dance-sandwiched me, becoming one of my favourite all-time pictures, and that for me confirmed you as a good egg. You later texted me to make sure I got home okay, and also to say that you thought I looked beautiful, and you liked my pockets.

All The Time

It was a little bit before Christmas. I had a dream about you, though I don't remember what it was. I used to have dreams about you all the time while you were gone. I don't really remember what any of them were or what happened, you were just sort of always there. It was strangely comforting in a way where it felt like we had just hung out on your couch and talked or something. They stopped when you came home. I don't have dreams very often, but those ones were nice.

Swim Time

We went to the Pot Holes, and they were holy-shit cold, but I really liked how you carried my beach bag for me. You looked so European, and you said it was all about confidence. You held my hand when we walked, and I liked that when we had to walk single file because of the trail, you'd reach back for my hand when we could walk side by side again. You were a better swimmer than I thought, and I liked that you wanted to explore everything too. It made me laugh when you started chanting, “Daddy!” along with those little kids who were trying to get their Dad to jump from the rocks. I’m not sure Dad appreciated your encouragement as much as I did.

Drunk Time

You were still away, but there were only about 17 more days before you were home. I had gone out with one of my friends to celebrate her birthday, and we got pretty sloppy drunk. I texted you, and then on the walk home I called and left a voicemail. I knew that you didn’t have access to your phone until you got back. I also drunkenly emailed you when I got home, telling you about the voicemail, and that I forgot how tall you are.

You said that you were choked that the voicemail was deleted by the time you came back because you guessed it was probably awesome. I did always wonder if the text was deleted too.

The voicemail said that I missed you, so much, and that I couldn’t believe that after so many months you would be here, and I was so happy to get to see you. I said please don’t go away again for so long.

Drive Time

I hadn't seen you in awhile. You had asked me if I wanted to come over and watch a movie. Even if it was already pretty late and I was beyond exhausted, I did. I wanted to see you and I knew that if I didn't go then, I probably wouldn't see you at all before you left. You looked good, I had missed you and wanted to hug you, but I didn't. I didn't think you wanted me to.

You showed me your new house, and I was so proud of you. It was nice, and cozy, and your tour made me laugh. The way you say things always has, and it's that kind of humour that has always made me feel a natural happiness, like the way I felt as a kid. It felt good to feel like we could still be funny with each other; it felt easy. It felt right to fall asleep on the couch with you, and it reminded me of the first time I came to your place and we fell asleep on that same couch. I guess there's a kind of beauty in that symmetry.

I didn't know it was last time I would see you. I didn't know it would be the last time I'd be a part of your life, and you a part of mine.  

I didn't know it was goodbye.

Flower Time

You texted me a digital rose. It was a joke, but we agreed it was true love then. Never again though, because it took you like a minute to text.

One-Upsmanship Time

The night we met, we were talking about how jokes can just keep escalating until it's a whole new kind of weird. We were going back and forth, and then to try and win I licked your face. I had maybe only known you 3 hours at that point. I had created a monster because it turned into a never-ending game of one-upsmanship between us, usually coming at the end of a perfectly good moment. 

It was after you had come home, and we were in the shower, and we had been irresponsibly consuming hot water for a ridiculous amount of time (But for the powers of good! And not evil.), that you rebooted our gross little game. But because I didn't want you to think you had won, I just let you slobber all over my face for what felt like a full minute. 

When I think of you, it is the weird things like this that I miss.

***

It's time to go now, but these will always make me smile, even if sometimes they feel bittersweet.

Key: 1) First Time 2) Flower Time 3) Party Time 4) Swim Time  5) All The Time 6) Your Birthday Time 7) Drunk Time 8) Home Time 9) Cold Hands Time 10) One-Upsmanship Time 11) My Birthday Time 12) Drive Time

- Natalie Bell has an uncannily detailed memory. She remembers everything in pictures and feelings, but strangely, can never remember where she parked her car.

Instances In Which Emoticons Are Acceptable

Emoticons are terrible. Just awful. I fucking hate them. But let me tell you how I really feel; those obnoxious little symbol-based faces offend me. 

My Dad, an upstanding champion of proper sentence structure and grammar, recently started accenting his emails with them, and I felt like I suddenly didn't know the man anymore. It was a dark day. 

When getting to know someone, if they happen to drop in a smiley or winkey face, it almost immediately signals to me that we no longer have anything in common. Whatsoever. And to my horror, it seems as though errbody is getting all up ons the emoticon wagon! People I respect and like as human beings are sending me texts with all kinds of digital faces!! 

I have gotten into lengthy and heated arguments over this. For the most part, what I hear is that these devilish little faces help in identifying whatever emotion is trying to be conveyed. They signal a joke, a sad situation, or a horribly passive aggressive exchange. Fuck. That. Shit. I'm about to get curmudgeonly up in this bitch and say YOUR SENTENCE SHOULD ALREADY EXPRESS EMOTION ON ITS OWN. Yup. Shit just got real, friends. 

If I am sending someone a message and I have to let them know it's a joke otherwise they'd think I'm appallingly off-putting, sexist, racist, homophobic, xenophobic, sociopathic, sexually aggressive, etc., then we are probably not meant to be; friends, lovers, distant acquaintances, or otherwise. 

This is no monkey business, and I'd appreciate if you took this seriously. The only place an emoticon ever belongs, is in a life or death situation. That is all. 

Please observe the examples provided:

A murderous psychopath is trying to kill me :( 

A shark just accidently ate my torso, will probably bleed out :'( 

Hey Mom, the cancer came back. Won't make it to Christmas; life insurance is in your name :$ 

Lucky I came out alive from that catastrophic 6 car collision. Not so lucky for the guy in front of me ;)


Just walked in on my fiance in bed with my best friend >:(

Dear cruel world, today I quit you. Also, sorry about the blood- tried to keep it all in the bathtub! :) 

- Natalie Bell doesn't actually feel human emotion, and this is the real source of her contempt towards emoticons. How freely and effortlessly they experience a smile of happiness or a wink of mischief. How easily they show laughter at a mildly funny joke. One day, she will destroy them. SHE WILL DESTROY THEM ALL. She was also hungry when she wrote this.

Conversations I'm Pretty Sure My Dogs Have: The Voice

Probably a true story. 


Goblin 1: Hey, where's Mom?

Goblin 2: Probably still arguing with her bike.

G1: Wasn't it her body?

G2: Yeah, whatever. She knows that bike has like 24 gears, right? I mean, that's pretty much enough to get her up Everest, so I don't understand what all this bitching and moaning over some hill is all about.

This is horseshit, it's almost 8pm! If she isn't here soon to feed us dinner I swear to god I will eat that pair of boots that I've never so much as sniffed and she has wrongly assumed are safe to leave on the shoe rack because we've always left them alone.

G1: Also, she's going to make us miss The Voice, and she's way too cheap to get a PVR.

G2: I am NOT waiting to have to watch it OnDemand two days later.

G1: Well, if she would just learn to pedal faster, then we wouldn't have to.

G2: Blake is really falling behind on building his team this year, and I want to see if he picks up anyone good.

G1: Adam really scored with that Avery Wilson, eh?

G2: OMG, such a wow moment. Just raw fucking talent.

G1: Agreed. But I really liked Nelly's Echo too. Maybe because we are part evil, but the emotional manipulation those shows try to pull with the sad backstories usually makes me feel completely unmoved. But that guy? Shit, he made me want to cry little goblin tears.

G2: It was pretty dusty in here.

G1: Okay, if you could pick any of the coaches, which one would you choose? Don't even think about it, on the count of three we'll both just say it.

One, two, three--

G1 & G2: BLAKE!

G2: The tallness?

G1: The tallness.

G1: And kind of a babe!

G2: Such a babe. He's got that assertive charm.

G1: And he seems funny. I liked that he brought his award.

G2: Never heard any of his songs though.

G1: Nope. Me either.

G2: Fuck, Mom. We're missing our show!!

G1: Oh, I just heard a bike on the balcony. You better go put her boots back.


-Natalie Bell (Mom) would like everyone to know that although her bike does have 24 gears, she's still the one powering it. It's not like the gears are pedaling the bike for her, okay?

An Open Letter To My Body After Day 5 of Riding My Bike To/From Work

Dear body,

We've had a pretty good relationship over the last 28 years. Together we've been through good times, bad times, swim times, sexy times, and lots of nap times. We've made it through some shit together, you know?

When our back got hurt, and we ended up in the hospital, and they loaded us up on Percocet, I tried really hard to take it easy and nurse us back to health. Sorry though about the time that I didn't really think the Percocet was doing anything because I was still in a decent amount of pain, and I decided I didn't want to take them anymore because I am stubborn and also don't like taking medication. Turns out, the medication was doing a whole lot, but I didn't fully appreciate that until we were in a movie theatre, 30 minutes into the cinematic gem Stealth, and I was writhing in pain. The combination of feeling like I was being aggressively prodded with fiery hot pokers while simultaneously being beaten with unusually large phone books, both physically and intellectually, was enough to convince me that I should stop being an idiot and listen to doctors, but that I should also never let the boys pick the movie.

Recently though, and by this I specifically mean in the last five days, I feel as though we have come to a rough patch in our relationship.

I bought Dad bought (Thanks, Dad!) us a bike with images of us happily gliding along, the wind blowing in our hair, breezily riding down by the ocean, any worries or cares swept out with the tide. It appears that you feel differently.

I anticipated that at first we'd be feeling the effects of having used the necessary bike riding muscles as frequently as never. I even mentally tried to prepare us for some preliminary soreness and minor aches. I thought we were in this together, body. I thought we were in it for the long haul; that for awhile it might get hard, but we'd push through just like we always have. I thought wrong.

I thought I knew you, body.

Today, while riding up the one hill on our way to work, I felt as though you were violently trying to quit me. You let our quads turn into puddles of pathetic non-strength, our calves felt weak and atrophied, and small children casually strolling down the street probably would have lapped us. Yeah, I realize I could easily choose a route that involves zero hills, but you know me well enough to know that I always make things harder than they need to be. And no, we're not getting off the bike and walking up the hill; we're not delicate flowers. I don't even feel real feelings anymore, just a constant, throbbing pain. What the fuck, body? That old couple waiting at the cross walk could even see how gassed we were, and started cheering us on. I had to tell them that it really was a bigger hill than it looked. I'm pretty sure they laughed while we rode off. 

Do you see what this has come to? Old people laughing at us. Well keep laughing, jerk. I'm eating a big fucking pizza tonight. Tomorrow you're dealing with that hill on your own.

See you on the road, asshole,

Me