I just got and email from My "former" Crush. (Okay, maybe, but only maybe, I still want to pull him into the elevator and have my way with him when I see him, but I digress.)
Hi Kate,
I am wondering how many lessons this family has paid for. The mother keeps asking me to give her son, extra lessons so that he can "catch up." Were his lesson fees pro-rated because he started late?
Thanks,
Your "former" Crush.
Too romantic for words. I'm swooning!
Friday, March 30, 2007
It's Official
The large, perfect Museum has rejected me.
The rejection came in the form of a letter sent through the mail. Quite the throw-back. It was dejecting, but I guess I knew it was coming seeing as it had been two weeks since the initial interview.
It was slim envelope and I had flashbacks to college acceptance time, when the slim envelope would strike fear into the heart of any high school senior.
Except I got into every college I applied to. I'm always a late bloomer.
On another note, I've made a connection with a young Canadian. This could be interesting.
The rejection came in the form of a letter sent through the mail. Quite the throw-back. It was dejecting, but I guess I knew it was coming seeing as it had been two weeks since the initial interview.
It was slim envelope and I had flashbacks to college acceptance time, when the slim envelope would strike fear into the heart of any high school senior.
Except I got into every college I applied to. I'm always a late bloomer.
On another note, I've made a connection with a young Canadian. This could be interesting.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
One of Those Days
Why is it some days, for no reason at all, you just want to scream until your throat is raw? Or until that lone tear runs down your cheek and under your chin you don't even know you're crying, never mind WHY you're crying? Then all of a sudden you're scrambling to wipe the lone drop from existence before someone can see and give you that sympathetic look that would only make more fall.
Even though there are gym and dinner plans you just want to run home and hide under your covers reading without thinking.
And when I say "you" I mean me.
The frustration is getting to me. I make a conscious decision to make changed in my life, and that all well and good, but what happens when the universe will not comply?
I don't know how much longer I can stay at this job. I know I'm not the fist one to hate there job, but I've been here too long, and I can't stand it anymore, mentally or physically. I've already thrown up twice on the way to work, (absolutely not fun whatsoever) and about three times before leaving for work. Yes its gross.
I'm tired of waiting. Tired of waiting for the large museum to call me back, tired of waiting to hear from G, and tired of thinking that I will hear from him, that maybe this one time I wasn't that disposable, never to be thought of again.
I suppose I'm too sensitive, or at least I have been lately.
I've been acting unlike myself, snapping at J about the shower, getting angry at M for not defending my honor after some random kid made disparaging remarks about my chest, of course not using chest as the word, but the extremely offensive word to my ears, that rhymes with "bits." (I'm shuddering as I type this.)
I just need to get a grip. I mean honestly Kate, get a grip.
Even as I'm wrapping up this post, I'm feeling slightly better. It must have been the grocery store artificial mini-cupcake with the plasticine-tasting frosting that is now coursing through my blood stream.
I'm going to go balance that out with a cup of green tea.
Thanks for listening to my mini-breakdown.
Even though there are gym and dinner plans you just want to run home and hide under your covers reading without thinking.
And when I say "you" I mean me.
The frustration is getting to me. I make a conscious decision to make changed in my life, and that all well and good, but what happens when the universe will not comply?
I don't know how much longer I can stay at this job. I know I'm not the fist one to hate there job, but I've been here too long, and I can't stand it anymore, mentally or physically. I've already thrown up twice on the way to work, (absolutely not fun whatsoever) and about three times before leaving for work. Yes its gross.
I'm tired of waiting. Tired of waiting for the large museum to call me back, tired of waiting to hear from G, and tired of thinking that I will hear from him, that maybe this one time I wasn't that disposable, never to be thought of again.
I suppose I'm too sensitive, or at least I have been lately.
I've been acting unlike myself, snapping at J about the shower, getting angry at M for not defending my honor after some random kid made disparaging remarks about my chest, of course not using chest as the word, but the extremely offensive word to my ears, that rhymes with "bits." (I'm shuddering as I type this.)
I just need to get a grip. I mean honestly Kate, get a grip.
Even as I'm wrapping up this post, I'm feeling slightly better. It must have been the grocery store artificial mini-cupcake with the plasticine-tasting frosting that is now coursing through my blood stream.
I'm going to go balance that out with a cup of green tea.
Thanks for listening to my mini-breakdown.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Why, Good Lord? Why?
Another J classic for your reading pleasure.
"It's ok. I know that. Just realize that I haven't changed anything since the summer. Last week, I was laying in bed while you were getting up later. I figured you might just be sad or something and hitting snooze. I went late to work everyday, but I didn't want to make a deal out of it. Then when it happened yesterday, that's why I asked if something changed. It did - your work schedule.
So, again, no biggee...if you want to sleep later, I'll just get up 10 min. earlier. I'm only in the bathroom for 10 minutes if that. I just can't get into the shower at 7:55. Then I'm big time rushing when I get out. I am supposed to be getting up at 7:37, but I snooze for 10 minutes because 7:47 is the absolute latest I can get up and make it on time to work (and that is with rushing). You always used to get up at 7:15 and be done showering by 7:32ish
--> I know because the shower is right near my head. I hear when you turn on the fan, then the shower then when you're in the medicine cabinet. That's the unfortunate part of sleeping with your head next to a thin wall next to the bathroom."
All I had written was "Sorry I snapped this morning, I'm not good in the morning" and that was what I got in return. All I really got out of this was "Blah Blah Blah...Blah Blah Blah"
It is seriously exhausting!
"It's ok. I know that. Just realize that I haven't changed anything since the summer. Last week, I was laying in bed while you were getting up later. I figured you might just be sad or something and hitting snooze. I went late to work everyday, but I didn't want to make a deal out of it. Then when it happened yesterday, that's why I asked if something changed. It did - your work schedule.
So, again, no biggee...if you want to sleep later, I'll just get up 10 min. earlier. I'm only in the bathroom for 10 minutes if that. I just can't get into the shower at 7:55. Then I'm big time rushing when I get out. I am supposed to be getting up at 7:37, but I snooze for 10 minutes because 7:47 is the absolute latest I can get up and make it on time to work (and that is with rushing). You always used to get up at 7:15 and be done showering by 7:32ish
--> I know because the shower is right near my head. I hear when you turn on the fan, then the shower then when you're in the medicine cabinet. That's the unfortunate part of sleeping with your head next to a thin wall next to the bathroom."
All I had written was "Sorry I snapped this morning, I'm not good in the morning" and that was what I got in return. All I really got out of this was "Blah Blah Blah...Blah Blah Blah"
It is seriously exhausting!
Friday, March 23, 2007
Hopes Down
Well there it was. The re-posting of the job that I had been coveting all week. That can't be a good sign. I haven't heard a word and now I have no reason to think that I may.
Chalk it all up to experience.
Off to New Hampshire this weekend. Everyone left with out me again so I have to trek up there on my own after work. My job is so ridiculously inflexible. That is one of the reasons I want to leave so badly.
Oh well! Back to the drawing board.
I'm trying not to be disappointed, but as soon as I saw the job title again, just posted yesterday, my heart dropped into my stomach. I just feel like I always have negative news. I want to share something that people will be excited to hear or I'm going to start to get a reputation for being a downer.
I'm trying hard to make changes for the better, but sometimes I get the feeling that the universe is against me.
Sigh, hopefully New Hampshire will revive me a little.
Chalk it all up to experience.
Off to New Hampshire this weekend. Everyone left with out me again so I have to trek up there on my own after work. My job is so ridiculously inflexible. That is one of the reasons I want to leave so badly.
Oh well! Back to the drawing board.
I'm trying not to be disappointed, but as soon as I saw the job title again, just posted yesterday, my heart dropped into my stomach. I just feel like I always have negative news. I want to share something that people will be excited to hear or I'm going to start to get a reputation for being a downer.
I'm trying hard to make changes for the better, but sometimes I get the feeling that the universe is against me.
Sigh, hopefully New Hampshire will revive me a little.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Interview the Second
I applied for this particular job back in January. When I got the call I let it go to voicemail thinking it was the most recent job I had applied for at the local zoo. (Fun huh?)
I checked my voice mail as soon as the indicator sounded and was surprised to hear back from the large museum within walking distance to my apartment. If the HR girl (trust me she is a girl) hadn't left the name of the position I would have has no clue for which job I had applied. I had to scramble around looking for the cover letter that was sent, the job description that had obviously piqued my interest and when I had actually sent all my information.
A Ha! January! It was now March. I feel better about being just a little clueless. I was excited about this prospect. The location was ideal, the benefits a dream come true, full medical, dental, a full week more of vacation. Sigh, good on paper.
The interview was arranged for nine days later. NINE! Just enough time to induce full panic mode. It was also enough time for me to get a new fancy suit, which I love and which I had retained enough patheticness after the G debacle to have my mom offer to pay for it. Score!
So my last two weeks have included interview preparation, the G bomb, and trying to coordinate a trip to NJ to see a friend who lives there with two of my friends who live here. They were leaving on Wednesday, my interview was on Thursday; therefore, I was on my way to NJ on Friday morning on a train, but that's just an annoyance I don't want to recount, I just want to forget about it. Not the train ride itself, I'm in love with the train, but the build up to the trip.
Speaking of trains I'm getting off-track.
Thursday comes, I bolt work early, citing I had to catch the train Thursday afternoon. I arrive at the HR office of the large museum five minutes early and sit and wait. For TWENTY-FIVE minutes! Of course I was nervous and warm and feeling a little uncomfortable to the point where I had to remove my fabulous suit jacket and discretely fan out my shirt in a failed attempt to cool myself down. Luckily I had armed myself with copious amounts of deodorant and body splash.
I'm not good when I'm nervous.
Finally the HR girl emerges from her prior exit interview, apologizes for being late and says we can walk and talk seeing as the office that I'm interviewing for is across the street. She decided that this would save time.
Interviews are nerve wracking enough with out having to be mobile at the same time. Usually you can anchor yourself to the chair and try to look comfortable while being articulate. When you add in a busy street, big puddles and a tiny HR girl who keeps jumping against the wall because she is afraid of being splashed by a car, you have a whole different situation. The noise made it difficult to hear her questions, our pace made it difficult for me to answer smoothly, and crossing the busy street was just plain dangerous, but we made it. Phew! I had to grin and bear it and not focus on the fact that I get a little anxious about crossing busy streets when I am not at the designated crosswalk. (I know I'm a dork, but I am also a klutz and I'm always afraid I will trip in the middle and be squashed by an eighteen wheeler.)
I met with a man first. I forget his position, but I have his card somewhere.
I really felt comfortable talking with him, it seemed more like a conversation than an interview. He asked me questions about my prior employment and the rest just rolled from there. He asked me about my ideal office environment, and I told him about my current one and how I felt I could adapt to any situation. After I had told him a little about my current working environment he paused.
"That sounds stressful."
I laughed out loud. He had no idea, but I managed to wax poetically about handling the space and managing my time and how it had taught me that there was no problem that couldn't be solved. blah blah blah. I feel I actually did pretty well.
When he started to describe the working environment at this job, I started to get giddy.
My own cube? Privacy? A hands off manager? Laid back environment? Room to make the psition my own? Is this heaven? I refrained from actually asking that, but he could probably see the desire in my eyes.
I even made him laugh a couple of time, so I felt a sense of accomplishment from that.
From there I met with the woman who would be my direct boss, but she was in the middle of a grant crisis so she only had a few minutes to meet with me. I was relieved, but this part of the interview went well too. I didn't have to talk about my strengths and weaknesses and where I saw myself in 5 years and all that bull-loney.
So that's it. Interview number two. It went well by my view, I have no idea what they may be thinking.
At the risk of jinxing any possibility of getting this job, I will only say that it is quite possible that I maybe might think that this could in someways be a good fit for me and I maybe might be wishing very hard that I hear something positive very soon.
I checked my voice mail as soon as the indicator sounded and was surprised to hear back from the large museum within walking distance to my apartment. If the HR girl (trust me she is a girl) hadn't left the name of the position I would have has no clue for which job I had applied. I had to scramble around looking for the cover letter that was sent, the job description that had obviously piqued my interest and when I had actually sent all my information.
A Ha! January! It was now March. I feel better about being just a little clueless. I was excited about this prospect. The location was ideal, the benefits a dream come true, full medical, dental, a full week more of vacation. Sigh, good on paper.
The interview was arranged for nine days later. NINE! Just enough time to induce full panic mode. It was also enough time for me to get a new fancy suit, which I love and which I had retained enough patheticness after the G debacle to have my mom offer to pay for it. Score!
So my last two weeks have included interview preparation, the G bomb, and trying to coordinate a trip to NJ to see a friend who lives there with two of my friends who live here. They were leaving on Wednesday, my interview was on Thursday; therefore, I was on my way to NJ on Friday morning on a train, but that's just an annoyance I don't want to recount, I just want to forget about it. Not the train ride itself, I'm in love with the train, but the build up to the trip.
Speaking of trains I'm getting off-track.
Thursday comes, I bolt work early, citing I had to catch the train Thursday afternoon. I arrive at the HR office of the large museum five minutes early and sit and wait. For TWENTY-FIVE minutes! Of course I was nervous and warm and feeling a little uncomfortable to the point where I had to remove my fabulous suit jacket and discretely fan out my shirt in a failed attempt to cool myself down. Luckily I had armed myself with copious amounts of deodorant and body splash.
I'm not good when I'm nervous.
Finally the HR girl emerges from her prior exit interview, apologizes for being late and says we can walk and talk seeing as the office that I'm interviewing for is across the street. She decided that this would save time.
Interviews are nerve wracking enough with out having to be mobile at the same time. Usually you can anchor yourself to the chair and try to look comfortable while being articulate. When you add in a busy street, big puddles and a tiny HR girl who keeps jumping against the wall because she is afraid of being splashed by a car, you have a whole different situation. The noise made it difficult to hear her questions, our pace made it difficult for me to answer smoothly, and crossing the busy street was just plain dangerous, but we made it. Phew! I had to grin and bear it and not focus on the fact that I get a little anxious about crossing busy streets when I am not at the designated crosswalk. (I know I'm a dork, but I am also a klutz and I'm always afraid I will trip in the middle and be squashed by an eighteen wheeler.)
I met with a man first. I forget his position, but I have his card somewhere.
I really felt comfortable talking with him, it seemed more like a conversation than an interview. He asked me questions about my prior employment and the rest just rolled from there. He asked me about my ideal office environment, and I told him about my current one and how I felt I could adapt to any situation. After I had told him a little about my current working environment he paused.
"That sounds stressful."
I laughed out loud. He had no idea, but I managed to wax poetically about handling the space and managing my time and how it had taught me that there was no problem that couldn't be solved. blah blah blah. I feel I actually did pretty well.
When he started to describe the working environment at this job, I started to get giddy.
My own cube? Privacy? A hands off manager? Laid back environment? Room to make the psition my own? Is this heaven? I refrained from actually asking that, but he could probably see the desire in my eyes.
I even made him laugh a couple of time, so I felt a sense of accomplishment from that.
From there I met with the woman who would be my direct boss, but she was in the middle of a grant crisis so she only had a few minutes to meet with me. I was relieved, but this part of the interview went well too. I didn't have to talk about my strengths and weaknesses and where I saw myself in 5 years and all that bull-loney.
So that's it. Interview number two. It went well by my view, I have no idea what they may be thinking.
At the risk of jinxing any possibility of getting this job, I will only say that it is quite possible that I maybe might think that this could in someways be a good fit for me and I maybe might be wishing very hard that I hear something positive very soon.
Monday, March 19, 2007
One Year
I have all these intentions and then I don't know where to start.
I could start with the interview, or I could start with my weekend trip to New Jersey or I could start with the fact that my assistant up and quit while I was gone. I mean seriously? I was gone for one and a half days and THIS is what happens.
I could also say how my little blog turned one year old on Saturday and I celebrated by having three Guinness in a little Irish bar in Hoboken, New Jersey. I'm actually surprised to see it turn a year. I figured it was something that would occupy me for a couple of days seeing as I set it up on a whim. Friday's at work are always notoriously slow.
Yet, here I am a year later and still writing. I wish I had the drive to write more often and I always promise myself I will, but things get in the way. Yes, the ambiguous things. In the next year I will try to write more. All the little post I start to compose in my head I will try put on to paper.
It seems like everything I'm trying to put into blog form. Its just when I think to start it or write it down, I lose focus or drive or usually my phone rings (because I'm at work.)
So there yah have it! One whole year.
I'm impressed with myself and that rarely happens!
I could start with the interview, or I could start with my weekend trip to New Jersey or I could start with the fact that my assistant up and quit while I was gone. I mean seriously? I was gone for one and a half days and THIS is what happens.
I could also say how my little blog turned one year old on Saturday and I celebrated by having three Guinness in a little Irish bar in Hoboken, New Jersey. I'm actually surprised to see it turn a year. I figured it was something that would occupy me for a couple of days seeing as I set it up on a whim. Friday's at work are always notoriously slow.
Yet, here I am a year later and still writing. I wish I had the drive to write more often and I always promise myself I will, but things get in the way. Yes, the ambiguous things. In the next year I will try to write more. All the little post I start to compose in my head I will try put on to paper.
It seems like everything I'm trying to put into blog form. Its just when I think to start it or write it down, I lose focus or drive or usually my phone rings (because I'm at work.)
So there yah have it! One whole year.
I'm impressed with myself and that rarely happens!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Getting Angry
I'm not upset because G is dating someone else. I'm not so delusional that I didn't know that that would eventually happen.
I'm upset because of the way he approached the subject (over email) and the fact that he has some how twisted it around to make me think that I have done something wrong. (I haven't). The fact that he still would like to be friends, but "only on email for now" rubs me the wrong way. I'm not calling him five times a day so he has to tell me not to call. I haven't heard his voice since January.
Okay so maybe a few weeks ago had called him after a few (many few) beers at a Bruins game, but that's when I believed him to still be my friend. Obviously I was wrong.
A mutual friend asked me if I really expected more from "someone like G". (Emotionally stunted)
Well, g'damnit! I did! Why wouldn't I?
The bottom line is that I feel like I've lost my best friend. Did I really think I was going to end up with G? No. Did I think it would go beyond where it had? No. Did I hold on too long to this relationship? Absolutely!
He was just my rock for about a year and half. I told him everything that mattered. When I had news he was the first one I wanted to tell, I could vent to him because he was an outside observer.
Will we talk again? I'm sure we will. Its a little too open ended for me to be comfortable with, but I'm fine giving him the space he feels he needs.
I just can't shake the feeling of being cast aside.
Maybe I'm wrong?
I'm upset because of the way he approached the subject (over email) and the fact that he has some how twisted it around to make me think that I have done something wrong. (I haven't). The fact that he still would like to be friends, but "only on email for now" rubs me the wrong way. I'm not calling him five times a day so he has to tell me not to call. I haven't heard his voice since January.
Okay so maybe a few weeks ago had called him after a few (many few) beers at a Bruins game, but that's when I believed him to still be my friend. Obviously I was wrong.
A mutual friend asked me if I really expected more from "someone like G". (Emotionally stunted)
Well, g'damnit! I did! Why wouldn't I?
The bottom line is that I feel like I've lost my best friend. Did I really think I was going to end up with G? No. Did I think it would go beyond where it had? No. Did I hold on too long to this relationship? Absolutely!
He was just my rock for about a year and half. I told him everything that mattered. When I had news he was the first one I wanted to tell, I could vent to him because he was an outside observer.
Will we talk again? I'm sure we will. Its a little too open ended for me to be comfortable with, but I'm fine giving him the space he feels he needs.
I just can't shake the feeling of being cast aside.
Maybe I'm wrong?
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Ending
Kate,
Yes I am home. I am sorry to hear that you did not get the job. I know there is something out there for you, you are too smart to not get something great.
On another note there is something I have to tell you. I have met someone, I did not mean to it just happened. I would still like to think we can be friends but we won't be able to talk as much as we used to, pretty much only by e-mail right now. I have been dreading telling you because I don't want to hurt you. I don't know what else to say right now. I will talk to you when you are ready. I am sorry.
G
Yes I am home. I am sorry to hear that you did not get the job. I know there is something out there for you, you are too smart to not get something great.
On another note there is something I have to tell you. I have met someone, I did not mean to it just happened. I would still like to think we can be friends but we won't be able to talk as much as we used to, pretty much only by e-mail right now. I have been dreading telling you because I don't want to hurt you. I don't know what else to say right now. I will talk to you when you are ready. I am sorry.
G
Friday, March 02, 2007
Its a Start
I liked that my dad sounded genuinely shocked that I didn't get the job.
The call came this morning and I knew as soon as my cell phone started ringing that it was them calling to notify me of what they chose. I silenced my phone, letting it go to voice mail. I couldn't have had either conversation at work.
As I waited for the voice mail notification, I squeezed my eyes shut and chanted in my head, "Please don't give it to me, Please don't give it to me." It was the coward's way out. It wasn't my dream job, but one day at work after a particularly frustrating morning I shot out four job applications in quick successions. After I did so, I promptly forgot about them.
I was completely taken aback when I was offered and interview. It would be more of a lateral move, doing basically the same tasks and probably dealing with the same annoyances, but I had made a decision at the new year to stop whining about my job and to do something proactive about it. Applying was that. I hadn't really gotten to the second step.
I called back and set up the interview. As soon as I hung up the anxiety set in. It was two fold: anxiety about the interview process and anxiety about sneaking around at work, going to the interview and possibly giving my notice. I felt as if I were cheating.
The interview fast approached. I did the required research on the organization, an art school in the city, and tried to sum up my strengths and weaknesses, where I wanted to go in my career and all that other bull shit you have to spew in an interview.
I had done a test run the night before. It is a little dorky, but in the past I have found that it eases the tension a little. Getting there is half the battle.
The interview took place in a conference room with a large, extremely ugly glass conference table being supported by what looked to be a tree split in half. I was tense, but the three interviewers all seemed nice.
They started by reading a statement and saying they would ask me a series of questions that would take 35 to 40 minutes. I panicked a little. What a long time for an interview! Not to worry, I was out in 20.
But what did that mean!?
I obsessed about it for about 10 minutes before deciding there was nothing I could do about it. The questions had been predictable and I feel like I had represented myself well. It was over and done and I could always just look at it as good practise. Besides, I didn't even know if I wanted the job.
They called this morning citing they had offered the job to a "strong internal candidate." I wonder if they say that to all the candidates. "Its not you its us," sort of deal. To soften the blow and give you no reason to fault yourself. Now I can say, the only thing that was wrong with me was that I was not an internal candidate. Its like having a guy break up with you because he's gay. Well you can't help that you're not a guy. Okay maybe not QUITE like that, but you get the gist.
After hearing the message and experiencing a little disappointment mixed with relief I called my dad.
"You're kidding me." He said the shock apparent in his voice.
I appreciated it.
The call came this morning and I knew as soon as my cell phone started ringing that it was them calling to notify me of what they chose. I silenced my phone, letting it go to voice mail. I couldn't have had either conversation at work.
As I waited for the voice mail notification, I squeezed my eyes shut and chanted in my head, "Please don't give it to me, Please don't give it to me." It was the coward's way out. It wasn't my dream job, but one day at work after a particularly frustrating morning I shot out four job applications in quick successions. After I did so, I promptly forgot about them.
I was completely taken aback when I was offered and interview. It would be more of a lateral move, doing basically the same tasks and probably dealing with the same annoyances, but I had made a decision at the new year to stop whining about my job and to do something proactive about it. Applying was that. I hadn't really gotten to the second step.
I called back and set up the interview. As soon as I hung up the anxiety set in. It was two fold: anxiety about the interview process and anxiety about sneaking around at work, going to the interview and possibly giving my notice. I felt as if I were cheating.
The interview fast approached. I did the required research on the organization, an art school in the city, and tried to sum up my strengths and weaknesses, where I wanted to go in my career and all that other bull shit you have to spew in an interview.
I had done a test run the night before. It is a little dorky, but in the past I have found that it eases the tension a little. Getting there is half the battle.
The interview took place in a conference room with a large, extremely ugly glass conference table being supported by what looked to be a tree split in half. I was tense, but the three interviewers all seemed nice.
They started by reading a statement and saying they would ask me a series of questions that would take 35 to 40 minutes. I panicked a little. What a long time for an interview! Not to worry, I was out in 20.
But what did that mean!?
I obsessed about it for about 10 minutes before deciding there was nothing I could do about it. The questions had been predictable and I feel like I had represented myself well. It was over and done and I could always just look at it as good practise. Besides, I didn't even know if I wanted the job.
They called this morning citing they had offered the job to a "strong internal candidate." I wonder if they say that to all the candidates. "Its not you its us," sort of deal. To soften the blow and give you no reason to fault yourself. Now I can say, the only thing that was wrong with me was that I was not an internal candidate. Its like having a guy break up with you because he's gay. Well you can't help that you're not a guy. Okay maybe not QUITE like that, but you get the gist.
After hearing the message and experiencing a little disappointment mixed with relief I called my dad.
"You're kidding me." He said the shock apparent in his voice.
I appreciated it.
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