Monday, September 18, 2006

"Got kittens?"

This weekend was notable for three things. One, Holly and I had a rather interesting and honest conversation. Two, I became the parent of two kittens. And three, I fell off a roof.

You did not read incorrectly. I fell off a roof. Or rather I fell off a ladder from the roof of a structure and to the main roof of my friend Nan's four story apartment building in Park Slope. Why was I on the roof?? Well five of us were hanging out there and looking at Nan's amazing views of Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty. It was dark and I was going to climb down the ladder to fetch a beer. That's when I fell the five feet or so between the edge of the top structure and the main roof.

And I fell hard.

But only five feet, you scoff? Well I should mention that I fell on the wooden stepladder, shattering it, and landed on my tailbone and the splintered wood. Then I was thrown on my back and smacked my head against the roof. Holly and my friends came rushing to the edge when they heard the crash and thought that they were going to have to call 911. Flat on my back and distinctly aware that it's never good when the head bounces against something hard, all I wanted to do was lay there because moving would confirm just how bad I had hurt myself. A friend jumped down to help me up and thankfully nothing was broken nor was I impaled on the pieces of ladder. All I suffered was a serious ass bruise, a cut on my hand, and some wounded pride. Nan offered me some scotch and I spent the next hour coming out of shock.

As for the kittens, they arrived the next day. They were suitably freaked out much like I was freaked out by falling off a roof. When they weren't hiding under my bed, they were scampering around my apartment All Night Long. I guess that's a good sign, but it made for some abbreviated sleeping. In the morning I was pleased to discover that they had eaten all their food and had used the litter box, but were still using the space beneath my bed as a base of operations.

Holly had come over to see them Sunday evening at which point one had been hiding in the litter box and the other in the tiny space between my radiator and wall. When it was apparent that neither would come out and let us pet them, she tried to help me come up with names for them. Castor and Pollux? Germaine and Tito? Not having come up with any main contenders, I then steered the conversation towards our relationship.

I've noticed that Holly has been giving off a freaked out vibe herself. While she is not hiding under my bed with the cats, I've noticed that she's retreated behind this wall that she has. I told her my observations in an attempt to figure out what she was thinking. I told her that I loved her. She told me that she loved me, but is basically still dealing with her feelings for her boss. "I'm in love with someone else," she confessed, "and it's not fair to you."

Believe or not I can understand this. Even though a relationship ends, you have to figure out what to do with the feelings that you still have for someone. In Holly's case, she still loves her boss though is aware of the myriad reasons why the relationship had to end. Then she has her feelings for me that is only making her more freaked out. And it doesn't help that she still works with her boss and is thus confronted with the fucked up situation on a regular basis.

We talked for a while, which was really refreshing because for some reason we're both really evasive with our feelings. She usually retreats behind her wall and I retreat to a safe distance. Though we ended the conversation on a good note, I think the consensus is that her and I are going to wait on things till she can deal with her feelings for her boss. I know, I know. Story of my life, but can you really expect any different from our oft thwarted relationship?

"You know I really think you're a dyke," I said as we sat entwined on my couch.

"I think I am too."

"You're just shedding the last of your heterosexuality."

After we kissed some more, I added, "I've been very very patient."

"I know you have."

"One day . . ." I paused to kiss her earlobe. "One day I am going to do some very
. . . very . . . very naughty things to you."


"Yes. And it's non negotiable."

"I think I can get behind that."


La said...

Sweeney & Todd? :)
Patience like saint!

Dorothy Snarker said...

Wow. You fell off a roof. Wow. I hope your backside and pride are doing better.
On other fronts, you are one patient woman. Here's hoping delayed gratification works out for you.
p.s. My entries into the kitty name Olympics: Heckle & Jeckle, Siegfried & Roy, Romulus & Remus...

ada said...

Stop trying to be a superhero and keep those feet on the ground. No matter how fabulous you look in a cape, alcohol and rooftops are not a good combination.

Sorry about the bump in the road with Holly, but better she deal with lingering feelings now than farther down the road. Just don't close yourself off while's too short!

Click & Clack?
Dastardly & Muttley? (an old favorite cartoon)
Yin & Yang?

EnnuiHerself said...

Sorry about the ass bruise. This is probably why you shouldn't drink on a roof. Just a theory though.

No more patience. Just tackle Holly and tell her to deal.

Finally, can you keep a running tally of whose witty comments become titles to your blog posts?

Your sober, impatient, & ultra-competitive friend

Anonymous said...

Statler and Waldorf!

SavvySunshine said...

Wallace & Gromit?
Bonnie & Clyde?
Amos & Andy?
Ru & Paul (I know, that was sooo lame.)

Sorry about the ass.

BTW I linked you in one of my articles. Check it, yo!

nycrouge said...

Wow, OFAG is on the march. May it spread far and wide!

I'm sorry about the ass too.