I've been having boy problems lately. (Perhaps, lately is an understatement ...)
It seems that my old next door neighbor only thinks of me when I'm in Birmingham. Let me just put this out there: he's in Auburn, not only does he know where I live, he's been to my place in Auburn, and he knows my car. Last week, I was sleeping away, minding my own business, when I hear my phone whistlin' at me. "What's up" he says. "Not much [lie]. You?" I respond. "Same here. Just thinking about you."
The nineteen-year-old me would have thought, "Awww. How sweet."
The jaded me thinks, "Why do you do this when I'm not in Auburn?" and then the Black Eyed Peas start floatin' through my mind. When the phone rings at two in the morning it only means one thing, baby.
So, do I channel the former me or stick to the BEPs?
I say there are only two people who can get away with calling me in the middle of the night. He's one of them. The other, he's sleeping. Why can't my dear former neighbor learn to do that? (Seriously, if you need someone to talk to in the middle of the night. Or take you to the hospital. Or bail you out of jail, but only if it's some trumped up charge or for a good cause - I'll be there for you. 'Cause I'm nice like that.)
In other boy news, The ex-Boyfriend was in true form yesterday. He was over to pick up his cats, as divided per the verbal break-up agreement, after being out of town for a week.
First, I asked if I gave him my old quilt. It's basically a navy blue, was on my bed for a few months, and is not the gray comforter he has. I made that very clear.
He SO brought over the gray comforter.
"I vaguely remember something other than white," was his response when I tried to explain for the ga-zillionth time what I was looking for.
Then, I noticed little Zoe has a crab claw growing out of her front right paw.
He seemed to be under the impression that cats' nails molt. No they don't. So, Zoe-cat stayed with her mommy an extra night so I could drop her off at the vet this morning.
In conclusion, my old neighbor needs to make a point to text me in the middle of the night when I'm in AUBURN and The ex-Boyfriend needs to learn the difference between gray and blue and a comforter and a quilt. (I think he's been schooled on the nature of cat nails.) And even though he has those moments all the time, The ex-Boyfriend is a much more reliable pick to keep company with than the old neighbor. Someone better man-up before I go back to the familiar four-year-long road I had with The ex-Boyfriend.
