Skip to main content

Super Secret Single Behavior

This weekend I was on  my own, and I noticed two things.
1. My house feels empty with just me and the pets.
2. My house feels empty with just me and the pets.

Now, I know those two things are the same, but they mean very different things. See, my house never felt empty to me when I lived by myself, and now, it feels empty as if something was missing. Even Sami, the dog, looked around wandering what was missing before jumping into my arms and snuggling down for a nap.

On the other hand, the emptiness felt lovely. Things I had done before living with someone came back to me. Things like lounging in bed longer than usual, not cleaning the kitchen immediately after eating, staying in pajamas, not washing my hair for two days, going to the bathroom with the door open, not brushing my teeth immediately after waking up, and simply just melting into the couch, watching all my shows I never get to watch and becoming a part of the couch for an evening. (For the record I blame this on the cold front we just had.)

If there was a mess it was my mess. If there was a crumb it was my crumb. I remembered an episode of Sex and the City when Carrie was moving in with Aiden and she was afraid of her super secret behavior being found out. I laughed at this. What makes this funny is that for the most part my super secret behavior is shared. Well, not the door open or teeth brushing biz, but it shouldn't have felt so secret.

But, the moral of this I suppose is that super secret single behavior is needed. It's the me time to the we time and it keeps me sane. (and everyone else I'm sure). So here's to not brushing your teeth! (only for a little while though)


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Para Las Nietas

Cuando se van las abuelitas, se va una parte fundamental. We are pulled from the brown soil. Roots exposed. We falter, droop. How can we continue without the cariño of their warm hands to support us? Nourish us con sus caricias. Cuando se van las abuelitas, se van los almuerzos y cenas que no más ellas hacían. Las comidas that tasted of their love can no longer exist. The tacos crispy and brown, won’t taste the same. The flavor, like a duende, can’t be caught no matter how hard we try to capture it in our own kitchens. Cuando se van las abuelitas, se nos va el lenguaje, porque ellas nos hablaban en español. Nuestros apodos como Güera, Prieta, Niña, Mima, y Mija se desaparecen. We ache to hear the sounds of our names from their lips and grasp for their words. The ones we didn’t know we would miss. Cuando se van las abuelitas se nos va el amor duro. We lose the sharp tongues quick with consejos we didn’t want to hear at the time. Se nos pierden los dichos and the wisdom we...

¿Y la Prieta?

My grandma, Ita, called me Prieta. She called me this because my skin is toasted brown. When I was born my mom says I was light skinned, but she knew “que iba ser morena” because the inside of my little baby thighs were already darker than the rest of me. In the sun, I turn a darker brown. I get even more Prieta. It was a term of endearment. My sister, who has a light complexion, was called guera or guerinchi. When I tell people who don’t speak Spanish what Prieta means, dark or the dark one, their eyes open wide and a small gasp escapes. I see the offense they feel for me sprinkled on their faces like the freckles I will never have. When I try to explain, the offense still shadows their eyes. That is the problem with Spanish. Wait, maybe, that is their problem with Spanish. Even when I explain, they are suspicious. Their faces ask, “Is this true?” as if I am setting them up for a joke. But how can I explain the cultural and literal meaning of a word at the same time? ...

Spring Break Lists Fall by the Wayside

This week I'm on spring break. I had many plans. I wanted to work on my book. I wanted to spring clean the house. I wanted to tackle the garage. I wanted to post and sell more things on Craig's List. I wanted, I wanted, I wanted. So, far I've checked my email, emptied my DVR, and slept. This week has been good though, hermit-ish, but good. There's something odd that happens when you allow yourself to just be. I let my brain stop dictating what I was going to do and let my body chose to sit on the couch, to take a nap, to go back to the couch. Usually, I have lists constantly running through my head. Imagine a computer updating, white texts filling up a black screen,  that is my brain adding more tasks to the queue. But, the last few days my brain has frozen and the cursor is just blinking waiting for me to hit enter, to restart. The best part is that this is very rare for me. I think it is very rare for everyone, but I recommend it. Especially at this time of year...