tho what i can tell you is that i barely remember my first two weeks back after turks. (referring to it as depressed now seems like a major understatement.) but let's face it ~ no one likes coming back from vacation, right? especially a fabby one. it sucks major ass. re-entry back into real life always seems to go one of two ways: the first day or so is essentially torture, where about all you can muster up the energy for is dumping your entire suitcase on to the bedroom floor, going through the vacation pictures a million and one times, and maybe ~ maybe ~ looking for some of your new summer camp friends on facebook. then right around the time your tan starts to fade (and you're remembering mundane things like paying the gas bill), you're pretty much over the fact that this trip is behind you. or, if you come back to tons of work, bullshit and general drametia, that vacation glow has completely vanished that first day by lunchtime. so in that case, in less than 24 hours, you're not only over the whole grief period, but have also probably also forgotten that you even went on the trip in the first place.
however, this time i found myself in some strange place between these two usual, post-vacay scenarios.
that first night i came back and immediately headed to M's casa (and to shots of don julio silver, see above) despite some serious lack of sleep ~ not to mention that i had to be at work the next morning. and if that weren't bad enough, next thing you know we're at the abbey watching some tranny lip sync (poorly), while drinking double margaritas and smoking benson & hedges menthols.
see? it IS just like vacation!!! well, the only difference being that now i'm with a bunch of mo's and wearing a sweater. anyway, i just chalked this night up to a quick 'helping hand' back into the mainstream. yet somehow this "one night" managed to turn into every single weekend (and almost as many week nights) for the next month and a half.
on the other hand, work was a totally different story, because that took every ounce of fucking energy i had just to get my ass in the front door, whereupon i'd sit there and stare at my computer until 5:29pm. (i swear, i don't think my pulse ever went above 20 bpm. ever.) but poor b-man. because out of all of my school chums, he was the one who was quite happy i was back, since he had had no one to talk fantasy football with while i was gone. but guess who didn't want to to talk about football? shit, guess who had practically forgotten that football even existed? so every day for two weeks, our daily chats went a little something like this:
B: heyyyyyyyy! did you see that slaton KILLED it in that monday night game?? like over 200 total yards and two scores. totally bananas!
T: huh?
B: dude, your rockstar rookie running back! helllllllo?
T: meh
B: well did you win?
T: dunno
B: um, do you want to check?
T: (blink blink)
B: you don't care, do you?
T: meh
B: omg, you are soooooooo still on vacation. wHaTeVeR. we'll just try and have this conversation tomorrow then, ok?
T: (blink blink)
cut to the next day (and the next one and the next one after that) where we pretty much had that exact same conversation. well, if you even want to call it a conversation. my guess is that to him, it probably felt more like visiting a friend, (the one in a coma) and chatting her up in the hopes that she'd hear him and wake up at some point. sad, sad, SAD.
now, six loooooong weeks later, i'm actually spending my saturday night getting a massage instead of getting all crazy at cherry pop with the boys. i also finally woke up at work, tho admittedly that had far more to do with the fact that my AE is a total idiot, and i have been putting out fires and doing damage control every ten minutes thanks to his dumb ass.
so what does this all mean? well i'm not quite sure. i think probably the best way to describe it is that i now find myself in some kind of "life purgatory." i do not know what happened to me in turks and caicos, but the girl that went on vacation is not the girl that came back. because before i left, i was someone who was quite content to hole up in my apartment all weekend (aka anne frank), watch ~ and blog ~ about all of my tragic reality shows, and occasionally motivate to go downtown and shoot yet another round of buildings and signs. and while i've been totally over this shallow industry of mine for quite a while, at the same time of course i was happy to have a job that allowed the very crucial life necessities such as bmw's, designer sunglasses and fake hair.
cut to ten days later, where none of these things seemed remotely important. i mean, does a person really need fiery fuchsia walls and a $3,000 white ultra suede couch. really? really? i also felt like a caged animal if i was home for more than ten minutes at a time, thus my multiple trips to cherry pop. (seriously, if i go there one more time i'm pretty sure that they are going to ask me why i'm just not working there. )
but ok, i could deal with going from one extreme to the other. change is good. and at least i was getting out of the damn house! but then something happened. and this something was last weekend when i totally maxed out on my post-vacation life as well. it hit me like a ton of bricks, to tell you the truth.
so yah, like i said ~ PURGATORY. it sucks. because now i don't want to go out, yet i don't want to stay in either. i don't want to stay at my retarded job a minute longer, yet i have no idea what to do next. i still can't really deal with straight boys, but now i'm not so sure i can deal with the gay ones either. and i still want to take pictures, but i'm not really sure what to take pictures of anymore.
etc etc etc.
sigh. now i really have a headache! but i'll get back to ya'll re: this topic, of course, if and when i am able to figure it all out. in the meantime, i'm going to go on the club med website and check the prices for may... *WOOT*!
cheers ~
t$
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