Friday, June 3, 2011

I know it's inevitable, but shut up, anyway.

Happy Friday, homies.  So, I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but I've decided Los Angeles is too much for me (omg dude stop judging me, I've been here for like 4 years) and I've finally accepted that Jason Segel is not going to show up and declare his love for me, even though he should because I'm pretty sure we're soul mates.  I'm hauling my pasty California ass up to Seattle, mainly to find other pasty, failed hipsters who love food and like, dogs and books and stuff.  Also?  I freaking love rain.  I love Jason Segel, too, but I just don't think it's going to work out without one of us getting a restraining order.  (Probably not me.)



Anycrap, yesterday I put my two weeks' notice in at my job and braced myself for the question I knew was coming from one of my coworkers, and sure enough, it happened:

"So, is your boyfriend moving with you?"

That's right.  My imaginary boyfriend.

"Oh.  Well, no.  He's staying here for work, you know.  But I told him I wanted to focus on my career when I was in Seattle, anyway, so we're gonna see what happens..."

Vague enough, right?  I merely hoped my coworker wouldn't notice me sweating profusely and breathing like a cornered animal.  Sorry, but lying gives me heart palpitations.  I suck at it.

"Well, if things don't work out, I'm willing to make a long distance relationship work," he said to me, quite candidly, at that.

I stared at him.  I didn't even know how to respond.  My eye started to twitch.  Crickets chirped.  A tumbleweed blew by.  My coworker just stood in my doorway, waiting for me to respond.  I did what every calm, cool, collected, and emotionally stable woman would do in my situation - I pretended I heard my office phone ring and answered it.

My coworker raised an eyebrow at me, as if he was only suddenly beginning to understand the depth of my neurotic psychosis and social anxiety.  I nodded into my phone and started writing down "phone notes" of whatever important conversation I was having:  "I like sandwiches."  "I need to go to the bank."  "Maybe I should get sushi for lunch."

If Los Angeles has taught me anything, it's that I find myself increasingly ill-equipped to deal with the awkward situations in which I continue to find myself.  For these reasons alone, I hope that Seattle is really, truly full of nerds with whom I can identify.  We're also both SO pale!

But if Jason Segel is reading this, I'm still willing to try and make it work.  Just throwing that out there.

6 comments:

  1. jesus woman... i can't even begin to describe how much i love this...and i love you...

    yeay for being awkward!

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  2. This whole co-worker and imaginary boyfriend this cracks me up every time. The things we are forced to do when people don't get the hint that we're no interested. Good Luck in Seattle!

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  3. You know, if you ever need someone to play the part of Imaginary Boyfriend, I'm completely willing to put my incredibly awesome middle school performing arts class acting skills to the test. Well... only if I get to wear a fake moustache. But not one that's too big, or they get itchy.

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  4. Oh Annaliese-that is a great idea. Ok, and I will be a competing suitor. Can I please? Good luck in Seattle AB. I was going to give you the name of a really great blogger in Seattle and then I realized she is in a whole other state. I'm bad like that. But I am sure there are great blogging buddies in Seattle. I picture a whole community of them. Hanging out drinking dark roast at the very hip coffee shops I'll never know about. When you find them, please send them on to me ok? You take care.

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  5. Well, this is my first time to your blog. Clearly, I have a lot of catching up to do.

    Read your post on the imaginary boyfriend.. hilarious! I really wish people would just take a hint and leave it at that.

    I too love Jason Segel! And your writing style. :)

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  6. Seattle? Are you insane? It rains all the damn time here. Pale doesn't even begin to cover it...there is actually a hitherto unknown race here: Wan. Not Caucasian. Wan. One of them moved to Phoenix and he has been forever referred to as the "Wan that got away".

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