Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Long Distance is Total Pants!

It has become more and more difficult to update my awkward blog now that I'm with someone and ridiculously happy. Happy people aren't funny. I'm still awkward, but its less funny now that someone thinks its charming enough to date it. However, even though I'm in a happy relationship, we still are not living in a universe where good things happen to me.

Allow me to elaborate.

On May 18, the love of my life got on a plane for a three-and-a-half month internship with a dance company in the US. It didn't bother me so much that he would be gone for three out of the nine months of our relationship, but more-so that he was going to be 600 miles away in a secluded mountain resort, surrounded by a bunch of fit, gay dancers. Its like fucking gay Christmas!

Now, we all know what happens when a bunch of gay people think its Spring Break. These are the things of my recent nightmares. I keep picturing my beautiful boyfriend in a pile of writhing naked abs with a big smile on his face.

The first month was the absolute worst month of my life. I didn't sleep through the night once and, even though we Skype'd every night, I would still read too much into every correspondence and start to think that he was already conspiring against me with his new sexier lovers. That bastard.

I also started to punish myself. I would think, if he were really in love with me and I was really as amazing as he says I am, then he would never have compromised our relationship in this way and he would do anything he could to stay in my life.

It took a lot of talking through this brain-shit for me to understand that Cam also has to think of his future and his dreams of pursuing a professional dance career. That his decision to leave for the summer had nothing to do with me, other than the fact that he has total faith that our relationship is strong enough to survive. I suppose this is a really great way to test just how strong we are and just how supportive I am willing to be.

I'd like to say that I am totally over this panicky, crazy-pants phase, but I think it's going to continue to come in waves until my man comes back. I sleep through the night now, but I still have to breathe into a paper bag when he takes too long to email me back and I have to keep myself from setting his things on fire when he cancels our Skype dates. It's getting better.

His being away did give me an excuse to visit him in the mountains and the ability to tell the following story:

I flew into the Boston airport from Buffalo on a 45 minute flight with about six other passengers. I waited at the baggage claim as each of them excitedly grabbed their bags and headed out to continue living their fairy tale lives. I continued to wait while the room emptied and it became abundantly clear that my bags were not coming out of the little hole. I didn't get mad because I knew that with my luck, this was bound to happen. It couldn't be just a quick, hassle-free trip. I stayed as polite as could be, even when the douche-bag at the lost baggage office didn't apologize and even hinted that this might have been my fault. I knew that getting mad wouldn't help anything.

I kept my cool when the 24 hour wait time became a 48 hour wait time and the totally unhelpful bitch-asses that kept putting me on hold (for a total of three hours of peak roaming time on my Canadian cell phone) continued to locate and then lose my luggage over and over again. When the whole "keeping-my-cool" thing was clearly not working to my advantage, I got really aggravated and became what we in the customer service industry refer to as "a total asshole." I had my bag back within two hours.

In celebration of finally possessing my luggage, Cam and I decided to go on a relaxing swim in a mountain quarry. The water was unbelievably cold, and took me a very long time to finally get in the water. When Cam suggested that we race to the other end of the quarry, I thought, I'm probably going to win because I am an excellent swimmer and a trained life-guard.

I did not win.

At some point during the trip (probably at around the time I told the lady at the Boston airport she was "a useless waste of payroll") I must have forgotten the fact that a couple of months ago my chest collapsed and didn't take into account that maybe my body works a little different now than it did three years ago when I worked at the public pools.

Needless to say when my legs and arms suddenly stopped working and I began to sink, I went into shock. Luckily Cam was there and saved my life by swimming into me and pinning me against the sheer rock wall until an onlooker swam a flotation device over to us. After I stopped puking and my arms and legs began to respond, we both had a good cry and headed back to the hotel.

After my near death experience, we desperately needed to unwind, so we took advantage of the remaining daylight and sat by the pool (though didn't dare to even touch the water...I don't think either of us will ever swim again). We sat out all afternoon, reading some good books and enjoying each other's company.

When we felt we had soaked up enough sun, we went back to our room for some sex. We realized within a few minutes of touching each other that sex was NOT in the cards for our last night together. We had, without realizing it, absolutely COOKED ourselves. We were LOBSTERS. The only touching we could handle was anointing each other's blistering bodies with aloe and After Burn.

Even though I had to wear the same clothes for two days, almost drown in a mountain quarry, ended up with second degree burns on all but one part of my body, waited at the airport all night for my delayed flight and ended up with a $400 phone bill, it was worth it to see my wonderful, faithful, driven, talented boyfriend and I cannot wait for our do-over this coming weekend.

I think it is safe to say that the remaining month and a half will fly by and we will appreciate each other that much more when he is finally home. I am able to trust him wholeheartedly because he is an amazing guy. It also helps that he is one of the only two gay dancers at the compound and the other one has a lazy eye.

We'll be just fine.

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