Shampoo Solo

twice you burned your life’s work
once to start a new life
and once just to start a fight
(The Long Winters)

It recently (as of 10 minutes ago) came to my attention that I no longer have any of the archive files from my previous Web sites.

No posts.
No poems.
No short stories.
Everything I’ve ever written is gone.

It would be really nice if I could shake my fist at the heavens and blame this on computer failure and whatnot, but, unfortunately, I know exactly what happened, and that was one, big, huge, fatal Human Error. When backing my shit up a month ago, I deleted the existing backup folder, and then just replaced my Music and Pictures folders. And then emptied the Recycle Bin. Meaning, I deleted all my own shit without even realizing it.

So, I can forget about further posts to the Vintage/From the Archive category. And I’m taking my still-to-be-received tax refund to Best Buy later today and buying a personal laptop, because this setup where I have a work computer and then I back up my personal shit at home once a month IS CLEARLY NOT WORKING.

And from there, I guess, I rebuild.

[It seems so long ago when I wrote this; I must've been 22? 23? I remember at the time all this seemed like a huge revelation to me; reading it now, my reaction is more, 'Well, duh, no shit, Meredith.' But maybe everyone struggles to come to these realizations -- and then, after realizing them, pushing them to the back of your mind, living with them, and living in spite of them. And it all seems extra timely today, as I continue reading news about Heath Ledger's death and autopsy according to 18 different Web sites, trying to make sense of it still.]

You could run away.

You could get lost.

You could choose someone else.

You could get angry and never speak to me again.

You could disappear and i’d never know where you went.

You could get mangled in a horrible accident.

You could get suddenly ill.

You could get tired.

You could stop loving me.

You could change.

You could get kidnapped.

You could leave.

You could die.

You could do anything, anything could happen, and so many of them would hurt.

Fearlessness is a requirement to live; live fearlessly, love fearlessly, open our hearts and live and love, day by day never knowing what could or will happen in the future — being brave enough to open our hearts to the happiness of right now and pushing ahead, ignoring but acknowledging the dangers to ourselves, to our hearts, to those spaces we’ve filled up with you — only knowing that there are no guarantees, and that ultimately, everything ends.

[It's important that you watch this commercial, all the way to the end, before you read this post, otherwise this story will make no sense.]

Sunday morning, 9:15 a.m.: Scott and I begin imitating Raoul Bova’s flop-on-the-bed routine from the above Gap ad.

Sunday morning, 9:30 a.m.: Scott and I are on our way to the emergency room after I, unsuccessfully, for reasons that are impossibly to explain, tried to grab the back pocket of his jeans while he was mid-flop. I missed the pocket and instead his heel smashed into my chin. I can’t close or open my mouth and we know immediately there’s some jaw issue. I am crying a bit but mostly laughing at the utter ridiculousness of the situation, though both cause extreme pain and it’s best if I not speak and show no facial expression.

Sunday, 10:30 a.m., 11:17 a.m., 2:34 p.m.: We are humiliated but amused by nurses and doctors asking “How did this happen” and further questioning along the lines of “Was this domestic violence?” At one point a nurse sequesters me away from Scott to ask “Honey did he hit you?” and I’m laughing as I try to explain that it was just horseplay. It was all Rauol Bova’s fault!

Sunday, 3:30 p.m.: We emerge from the hospital with a diagnosis of “almost but not quite dislocated”, follow-ups scheduled with oral surgeons, prescriptions for painkillers and steroids, xrays, and instructions to eat only a liquid/soft diet for two weeks.

Sunday, 3:45 p.m. I burst into tears while attempting to eat mashed potatoes.

[Today: My jaw still cracks when I chew, because I never went to see that oral surgeon to have it realigned. Also, our obsession with Raoul Bova pretty much ended that day, which is a shame, because according to IMDB, he's since been in AVP and What About Brian, both of which I've heard are way awesome.]

I Wish You Were Here
If I wake up sleepy at approximately 3:09 a.m. and send you a text message that says something like “I wish you were here” and you show up outside my window a half hour later, there’s a good chance that you are fucking awesome.

[I remember this one, in particular, because I remember this night, and this spate of insomnia I went through, and how Scott really wanted to be right there beside me through it. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep next to him by 3:45 a.m.]

The Big-Boned Team
My favorite part of the whole weekend was when I opened the door to the theater, heard Craig Kilborn say “The Huskies, the big-boned team,” and felt disappointed that I missed my absolute favorite commercial ever, on the big screen, and then I laughed, loud, interrupting the preview quiet, half with delight and half with rueful disappointment, and midway down the aisle I heard him start laughing, loud, too, and I knew he was laughing because he heard me laugh and I knew he’d been thinking, “Where is she? She’ll be so sad she missed her favorite commercial” and then I slid into the seat next to him, and he kissed my hand and we grinned, softly, at each other.

[I love this sentence, partially because it really is just one big sentence, and partially because it might have been one of the first moments I suspected that I might, oh shit, be falling in love. To this day, Scott and I refer to March Madness as the most wonderful time of the year, and we also look at it as a semi-kind of anniversary ... and it's just a little over a week away now. Also, it's a damn SHAME that that commercial isn't on YouTube.]

Shock and Bra
I secured a quick and definitive Trivial Pursuit victory last night, thanks largely to my highly successful and perfectly executed “shock and bra” campaign.

[I suck at Trivial Pursuit, to this day. However, shock and bra worked. Scott is easily distracted.]

I’m starting a new category, as of right now, today, this moment: Vintage.

I’ve blogged in quite a few places before, and I have lots of archives of those old posts, some of which I’m kind of proud of, and in relation, kind of sad that they aren’t online anywhere.

So I’m going to break them out now and then.

That is all.