{"id":1191,"date":"2012-12-13T11:56:03","date_gmt":"2012-12-13T10:56:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/?p=1191"},"modified":"2012-12-30T19:09:15","modified_gmt":"2012-12-30T18:09:15","slug":"club-blue","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/?p=1191","title":{"rendered":"Club Blue"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><em><a href=\"http:\/\/www.flickr.com\/photos\/61741485@N05\/5892487393\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft\" style=\"margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border: 0px none;\" title=\"That Awkward Moment When...\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/farm6.static.flickr.com\/5159\/5892487393_b3c3a6572f_m.jpg?resize=240%2C190\" alt=\"That Awkward Moment When...\" width=\"240\" height=\"190\" border=\"0\" hspace=\"5\" \/><\/a>I would have married him!<\/em> M types into Gmail IM.<\/p>\n<p><em>You knew him for one month, <\/em>I respond.<em> \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>I could have loved him! He was perfect!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>My eyes begin rolling like a Magic 8-Ball.<\/p>\n<p>My writing soul mate is having a crisis. She has been dumped. Not even dumped, but pre-dumped. Dumped in the pregame show to dating; as though someone ended the Kentucky Derby by shooting a horse in the gate. Only instead of a gun, there was a Smartphone text message. Also, no oats.<\/p>\n<p>I begin typing my way to an IM escape route: <em>My connection has be\u2014.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>However, before I can tunnel into the loving, rave-free confines of my flat, my computer rings. I grumble in annoyance for several selfish reasons. Just off the top of my head, I don\u2019t want to hear the details of a failed relationship when I have so many of my own to keep me warm at night. Also, and as we all know, it\u2019s impossible to talk sense to a recently dumped person. And, most importantly, I was just about to put on an Oreo cookie, M*A*S*H, and bourbon festival in my living room.<\/p>\n<p>The computer stops ringing and I hold my breath. Then it rings again.<\/p>\n<p>Skype. I hate Skype. To answer or not to answer, that is the question.<\/p>\n<p><!--more-->First of all, it should be illegal to dump someone in the winter, especially if you live in a country where the average temperature is in single digits and the days are shorter than a typical visit to the bathroom. Second, even if you are in a go nowhere \u2018relationship,\u2019 staying together throughout the winter is a biological necessity. You need three things in the winter: food, alcohol and someone with whom to engage upon the horizontal hokey pokey.<\/p>\n<p>If you\u2019re alone, winter turns into a time of morbid depression, couch sores and an inflamed liver. It turns into letting yourself go, growing unruly nose hair, K\u0159upky (Cheetos) stains around your mouth and waking up on the couch with a cat fur imprint on your sweater\u2026for example.<\/p>\n<p>Don\u2019t be a hero, stay with the place holder.<\/p>\n<p>Though this may be on my mind, I can\u2019t say any of it for the simple rule of what comes around, goes around. We are all flogged at the altar of the relationship gods here and there, and when we are, our friends are the ones who pull us through. M was there for me last winter during my own winter dumping, when I bemoaned similar lamentations about a woman whose face is now vague and who I currently refer to as <em>the one that gave me that cup, I think.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>So I shall be there for her this winter.<\/p>\n<p>I answer Skype. God damn it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I would have married him! M types into Gmail IM. You knew him for one month, I respond. \u00a0 I could have loved him! He was perfect! My eyes begin rolling like a Magic 8-Ball. My writing soul mate is having a crisis. She has been dumped. Not even dumped, but pre-dumped. Dumped in the [&#8230;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1191","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-blog"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1EvEu-jd","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1191","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1191"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1191\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1215,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1191\/revisions\/1215"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1191"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1191"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1191"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}