The Alphabet Game

Eboogie has done very well for herself. Tomorrow, she will be marrying up. And by up, I mean she has secured her children’s future spot in the front of the class. When she changes her last name, she will no longer be and “S” but a “G.”

For anyone like me who is at the end of the alphabet, you will be able to relate to this plight. It seems that everything is done alphabetically. And us back of the packers get screwed.

I first noticed this in elementary school. Seating assignments and lunch/recess lines were based on the first letter of your last name. I was always in the back. This is not ideal for a short, nearsighted young girl. I could never see the board and was forced to get glasses. Getting to the 3 swings from the back of the line would have been difficult too but luckily, I ran fast.

The other problem with alphabetical assignments was the fact that you ALWAYS had to sit next to the same person. In my case, this was not a good thing. But I guess that is true no matter what letter your name starts with.

In high school, our home room for 4 years was assigned by, what else, our last name. The only issue I had with this was the fact that because I am a “S,” my homeroom and locker were situated on the 3rd floor of a building with no air conditioning and windows that were mistakenly put in backwards to keep in the heat. Imagine how hot and smelly it got in June.

In college, I reached all time rage level when they decided to allow people to register for classes based on their last name. This screwed me beyond belief. I never got the classes I wanted because all the A-L’s got there first. MoFos. You think they would change it up every semester, but that never seemed to occur to the administrators. I bet they are all “A’s.”

I should have known I made bad choices in men based on The Alphabet Game. I have dated a “W” and a “T.” However, my mother is the one who really messed me up. She started out a “B” and married a “S.” Way to go Gail B. Or should I say Gail S?

So anyway, other then being proud of my sister for finding someone with whom she wants to spend the rest of her life with, frolicking in eternal happiness, I am excited that she has moved up in the alphabet. Well done Eboogie, well done.

The News

Staring at blank TV’s or computer monitors. That had been my pastime of choice since last night when I found out the news that I had been simultaneously expecting and dreading for the past year and a half. The ex is getting married.

I had the “mature reaction” out in public. I told everyone I was fine. That I wished him the best, that he deserves to be happy and that it bothered me a lot less then I thought it would. I made inappropriate jokes and laughed about it. I wanted to prove that I was strong and that I didn’t care. I lied.

I didn’t even realize how much it bothered me until I sat there watching a TV that wasn’t turned on. I only realized that I was crying when I felt how damp the collar of my shirt had gotten. The slow motion movie montage of all the good times was on repeat in my head. It is amazing how easy it is to forget the bad ones. I couldn’t have stopped the tears if I had wanted to.

Never once have I regretted or questioned my decision. I knew then and I know now it was the right thing to do. But it doesn’t make things easier. If it did, I would have ended it two years prior. We were not right for each other. I have known that for a long time and that has been reinforced for me on a daily basis.

It was hard for me to even write this post but I also feel it was therapeutic in a sense. I needed to purge and have complete closure. Now I do. I guess that is a step in the right direction.

It took me exactly 6 hours to hear, process and accept the news. I now feel that I can say the things I said last night but actually mean them. I do wish him well. I do want him to be happy. I can be happy for him.