2004-01-07 - 7:32 p.m.

God damn my hands are pretty!

Two things happened during the three weeks that Boy was here.

One. We went shopping for DIAMOND (gasp, choke, vomit HELL) rings. (Later this week when I have recovered from my sheer, desperate lonliness (I just dropped Boy off at airport and am slowly trying to adjust to having no other human around) I will tell you about the major crap going on in my head about the whole diamond (not what getting a diamond means thing, but the actual stone thing)thing. Boy and I are going to get MARRIED. Yes, that is right. We are not engaged. But we are going to get married. We have known this for a long time, both of us, it has never been a question really, but now it is getting real-er because we went shopping for DIAMONDS on several occasions and Boy has finally managed to wrangle my ring size out of me which means that he and I both mean business.

And two. Because Boy was here and I wasn't writing as much as possible my fingernails got really long. And because we were looking at DIAMONDS and I got disgusted with myself one day while gazing at a $9,000 diamond ring on my finger that had on it's unfortunate tip and dirty, nasty, breakfast waitress fingernail, I painted my long fingernails so they wouldn't look so disgusting while trying on rings. Now I have really pretty fingernails and my hands are stunning. But this is not realistic because 1. I cannot type with long fingernails and 2. I cannot keep my fingernails painted because my job consists of a lot of hand washing and finger smashing which means I would have to paint my nails daily or they will just be chipped and stupid looking.

So for tonight I will have pretty hands. Tomorrow I will erase pretty hands. Tomorrow I will go back to normal waitress Whisper who doesn't go out shopping for diamonds and always has old, nasty food under her fingernails. Tomorrow I go back to no Boy in my house, back to going to the bathroom with the door open. Back to answering my phone (in case it is Boy), back to carrying my cell phone EVERYWHERE (in case it is Boy) with me. Back to dinner from the pan I cook it in. Back to bed time at eight.

I don't want that life any more.

I want my Boy to come home now, for good.

I want it to be like it was these last few weeks. I don't want to put Trivial Pursuit back on the shelf. I don't want to pack up wine glasses for safe keeping. I don't want to NOT have dishes to do every day. I don't want to sleep alone. I don't want to get back to my routine.


He is so wonderful. Really, you can't know how lucky I am.

Say goodnight, pretty hands.


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