I was feeling rage. That bitterness of disappointment was turning into a brick of salt in my tummy and giving me ulcers. Sleep was hard to come by. It wasn’t a total loss, I was still functional, but outwardly sending energy of “Fuck you!” to most of the world. I dislike this part of me, but hell, it’s true. A woman scorned, is let’s face it, a fuckin’ hell of a bitch.

And this bitch took to the air to fly away to Seattle to take care of the family’s property. Even Virgin America, the airline for club hoppers and Jersey Shore enthusiasts and who hire the hottest flight crew I’ve ever had the opportunity to spill my tonic water on, couldn’t cheer me up. “Men suck! The world is full of dicks! Asswipes! All men should die of syphillis! Grr grr snarl RAAAHR!!!”

Babies can be made... on Virgin America!

I was staying at my friend Jared’s place. Now, Jared is one of those guys I cherish quite a bit, and the reason why is cuz he’s a super-mench. You wouldn’t know it from meeting him: his sarcasm and cold demeanor sometimes precedes him. He moves stiffly and angrily sometimes. He can come across as a bull. But for all that prickliness, he is one of the most dependable, solid, and generous guys I know. Heart of gold, really.
For my 2 nights at his place, he had 1) left the house keys for me in a secret spot 2) gave me the keys to his super fun Land Cruiser 3) gave me free use of his house even though he was away on a vacation.

Jared surprised me the 2nd day by showing up early with his current girlfriend, “N”. She was a beautiful hapa girl with a natural smile. We all made dinner together (using a recipe South African had given me) and drank wine late into the night. We laughed and had a ball watching a wind-up chicken toy (his father gave it to him) walking across the dinner table.

I couldn’t place why the night was so relaxing. And then I caught something. Jared was leaning in his chair and N was leaning in hers. And I noticed that as she was laughing, she was lightly squeezing his foot which he had propped up on her lap. And when I turned my eyes to him, I noticed something about the demeanor of my friend of many years. His shoulders were loose. His entire body was like a soft noodle. My friend was the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. And N, not only did she understand his humor, she ADDED to it. For every tit, she added tat. (I.e. Him: “Look at that guy! He’s completely ripped!” She: “Hey man, lay off the Myoplex!”) And when N was lying slightly over-intoxicated on the sofa chair too tired to move, Jared lifted her lightly to her feet and let her hang her full weight on him as he led her up the stairs to go to bed.

Despite my bed of anger, I had witnessed love in its simplest actions. My friend Jared was happy -and not in a happy joyful dancing obvious kind of way- but in that kind of way where he was just less guarded and more the heart of gold he really is.