Kamran’s simulated crash face does not in any way reflect how our trip to Atlantic City on Greyhound’s Lucky Streak Bus went:
However, this is a fairly accurate portrayal of his feelings toward wearing a seatbelt on public transportation:
A full report is forthcoming.
Happy birthday to my big juicy Kamburger!
It’s a pleasure to spend another birthday with you, Kameroon, and not just because you’ve agreed to do all of the things I want to on your special day.
It’s funny to find myself nostalgic and grossly sentimental for the city I currently live in. I saw this ring from Henri Bendel in Time Out New York on the train the other morning and had a moment of heart palpitations.
I guess I have a special attachment to the Chrysler Building since dating Kamran, who goes to bed every night with it shining in his window, and since we took this photo in front of it two whole years ago. When I asked my brother-in-law to design a sticker for me and he sent a drawing with a skyline, I specifically asked if he could change one of the buildings to the Chrysler.
I don’t know if I love it enough to special order a $720 gold (gold?!) ring modeled after it, but it makes me sad to imagine not seeing it every day.
I’m interested–are there things in your city you feel this way about?
Today marks the third anniversary of the day Kamran and I met at S’MAC in the East Village for macaroni, cheese, and a first date for the ages. I wore a black hoodie and old jeans because I thought I wasn’t going to care to impress him, and he said things like, “I spent the past six years living in New Jersey,” when he meant, “I spent the past six years earning my PH.D. FROM PRINCETON.” Afterward, he charmed the pants off of me (not literally) by taking me for drinks at a bar with red velvet furniture and telling me all about his guilty pleasure bands.
As we parted at the train station later, he said, “I’ll call you,” and I said, “Thanks for taking me out,” and he said, “The pleasure was mine,” which seemed really slick and grown-up at the time but would later turn out to be something he says on a daily basis. I gave him a hug to signal that he had my permission to run the hell away and never call me again, but he said, “I’m still going to wait until your train comes.” I said, “But we’ve already said goodbye! Now we’re gonna be all awkward.” He asked, “What’s better than two goodbyes?”, and I said, “No goodbyes.” Sexy!
Most days feel just as exciting as that first one did, and the days that don’t feel exciting still feel full of a deep, understanding love that I couldn’t even imagine until I met him but now probably take for granted because it feels like such a part of me. Even after three years, it still seems like our time together has just begun, and I hope that we end up just like the eternal embrace skeletons.
Even if it’s just because we strangled each other to death.
I love Kelly and her adventures in independence over at Bachelor Girl, but I’ve always thought people who live alone are crazy. Whereas I seem to go home to Ohio once a month these days, Kamran only gets to visit his family in California about twice a year because of work and law school, so I’m not used to being here without him. When he scheduled a trip home for this past weekend, this whole week, AND next weekend, I wasn’t sure I’d last ’til this morning. And then my best New York friend, Beth, announced that she was leaving for vacation, too. And then my best best friend, Tracey, announced that she and her husband were going to visit their in-laws and wouldn’t be available to chat. THE HORROR.
Kam and I took a cab to the airport on Saturday morning, where we enjoyed hot dogs wrapped in soft pretzel material, and then I creepily watched him go through the security line and waved to him and blew kisses every time he dared to look out of the corner of his eye to see if I was still there. And then I rode the bus and the subway back into Manhattan (because I’m cheap), decided I might as well cook for myself without someone there to take me out to dinner, and actually bought groceries for the first time in . . . so many months I can’t count. It felt terrible.
Other Things I Did Without Kamran Here to Entertain Me
1) Went to the gym on both Saturday and Sunday, allowing me to watch a whole lotta “Lost” season 5 on my iPod, and allowing me to grow to hate Ilana even more.
2) Whipped up some vanilla pudding, decided it was too plain, and swirled powdered Nesquik in for flavor. Don’t tell Kamran.
3) Watched the episode of “Degrassi: The Next Generation” where Alli decides to give it up to Johnny in the back of a van down by the ravine, only to discover that she totally wasn’t ready. When she confides in Johnny that she’s not going to DO IT again for a long time, he admits that he was a virgin, too. SWOON!
4) Cooked pasta, made pasta sauce, seasoned sausage to put in it and DID NOT HATE IT.
5) Saw District 9 with Jack, Eric, Eric’s girlfriend Christine, Nik, Jack’s friend Chris, Chris’s sister Vanessa, and Jack’s friend Andrew. Jizzed in my pants a little the first time we saw the aliens up in the ship.
6) Didn’t leave Kamran’s apartment building a single time on Sunday, but did leave the apartment itself to get a bag of Doritos (Cool Ranch, of course) from the convenience store downstairs. Planned to finish them all myself just to spite Kamran but sadly couldn’t hang.
7) Began watching season 2 of “Mad Men” without ever watching season 1. Felt like I may have missed out on some important stuff–Joan being a bitch, Peggy giving her baby up, a whole lot of women cheating on their husbands–but enjoyed it nonetheless.
8.) Caught up on “Big Brother 11”, which is not embarrassing, and I refuse to feel guilty about it.
9) Realized that watching so much television is a little bit sad without Kamran there to make me feel like I’m being social.
10) Slept diagonally across the bed and found myself waking up with a smile on my face. (Sorry, Kam.)
So all in all, it wasn’t the worst weekend of my life. However, in less than 48 hours, I must have texted Kamran 15 times to tell him I missed him, so it’s probably safe to say I couldn’t make a lifelong go of this. And here’s the great thing about being alone for a week versus being alone for life:
When a nerdy-yet-pompous grad student across from me on the train in Queens started telling his nerdy-yet-pompous friend about a dream he had where he was making out with some chick (who was no doubt too hot for him) at some party (that he’d never actually be invited to), I got to put on my headphones and let Hot Hot Heat block them out instead of hanging onto their every word while trying to decide if giving up all of my self-worth was worth it for a date with one of them.
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