The Day I Did Yoga After Breaking Up With Kirsten, Sort Of

It was weird how much I wanted to have sex with Kirsten after work. For the first time in a long time, I felt overwhelmingly teenage-horny, where I couldn't think of anything else. But these were misguided hormones, part frustration, part anxiety. My sexual relationship with Kirsten is over. When we last had sex, maybe two weeks ago, neither of us knew we'd get involved with other people--she with Collin in San Francisco, me with Jenny in Midtown--and all of a sudden we've quietly retracted back to being just friends. It's weird to break up with someone you're not actually dating. 

So we kissed, and we talked, and we had brief make-out moments that fizzled out like dud fireworks and left us groaning and pulling away. It didn't feel wrong. Neither of us are officially in relationships, but we know we're willingly on track to be and neither of us expected that to happen any time soon. But here we are, like we're stumbling together out of this weird dream and still trying to hold hands as the real world pulls us apart. It's all kind of romantic, I think. 

We stop kissing and I pull away from her. "Tell me to stop and I'll stop," I say, sitting on my knees on the bed beside her, and she looks up at me and says nothing in return. 

For attempting the ill-advised friends with benefits routine, I think we pulled it off really well, and hence that makes it all the stranger to take those steps backward and remember that it was always meant to be temporary. 

What today felt like was what growing up should feel like. It should hurt. Growing pains. This is me falling in love, admitting this, and shutting off parts of me that I'd been encouraging since August. I can't sleep with Kirsten, and she can't sleep with me for the same reason. It's not supposed to be easy. It's not supposed to make sense. We're good people and we know what's best. 

"We need to learn how to be plutonic," she said. 

And the craziest thing of all would be if Jenny doesn't like me back. If Jenny doesn't fall in love. If Jenny and I don't have a timeline together. But those questions are the ingredients of heartbreak, so I honestly don't care at this point if Jenny likes me back, because heartbreak would be an equally enrapturing experience. 

Katie cancelled our pseudo-plans. I think that timeline is over. 

Due to the aforementioned growing pains, I had a pretty shitty day at work. I forced myself to be pleasant, which usually doesn't take as much effort, and couldn't wait to get home and decompress. After having the last three days off, opening at Old Soul feels like a bad hangover. After work I sulked with Kirsten in my room, our frustration leading nowhere, and she left for work. I went to yoga to see if that wouldn't get my mind on track, and it did, and I am really starting to get into this yoga craze, and afterward I showered at home, got dinner from Crepeville, and edited some of these photos I took today. 

Have I learned anything from this closing chapter? I've learned a lot. I've learned that love is a very fluid thing, very secretive at times, elusive and rare. I'll be the first to admit that I loved Kirsten, but I doubt I'd be able to explain it. It just was. We clicked, and now we un-click, still friends, always friends. 

In other news, Shaun is doing well with his new girl, Chelsea, and Kirsten is going back to see Colin in San Francisco on Tuesday. No word from Sac State and my Peace Corps application is on hold. I completed my FAFSA and my tax-return was direct-deposited. I'm addicted to the song "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People, as well as "Shake Me Down" by Cage the Elephant, and the band Wild Nothing. No progress on the splitting of the AT&T bill, so far as I can tell, and I haven't heard anything from AJ about it. I need to do my laundry. I need to go to bed early. 

Everything is going to be okay. 

- Left to Fry

The Day I Spent About Town With Jenny After Last Night's Party And Yesterday's Commute

I'm waking up in Redwood City on the couch in the living room at 8:00 AM to take a hot low-pressure shower and get ready for the day, which is Friday, Jenny's Birthday. Dad's already up and we head downtown to Courthouse Restaurant for breakfast. It's eggs and hash-browns for both of us on this rainy morning, and Dad's impressed that I drink my coffee black. We talk about movies and Michelle Pfeiffer and television shows and women while I take a couple snapshots with the new camera and get a better feel for it. 

A handful of hours later, I'm back in Sacramento depositing a check at my ATM and I look to the girl dressed in her work uniform doing the same thing to my right and I say, "Happy pay day," and she nods and replies, "Yeah, same to you." 

Between breakfast and Palo Alto, Dad and I look through old photographs stored in a metal briefcase.

Some of them are actually quite hilarious. Dad's long hair at 16. Uncle Andy's band photo (they were called "Threshold" when they were together). Me as a kid with two of my front teeth missing posing against the railing overlooking Los Angeles near Universal Studios. Some of them--those of my late uncle and grandfather--are kind of sad.

I never knew my grandfather, not really, and the vivid memories I have of him can be counted on one hand. Ducking under the television during MASH. The magic trick on the dining table. The train set in the garage. Smoked oysters and keeping the refrigerator door open too long. Then I remember him for a while all strapped up in body restraints, neck-crooked and drool dripping from his mouth, staring ahead without moving, dying every day in the living room. And the day I spent at the neighbor's house while an ambulance came to get him, and the day he died. His funeral. Wanting to say something and wanting to cry and doing neither. 

My Uncle John died from a heart attack at the hospital, after an initial heart attack sent him there hours earlier, collapsing on the treadmill when they wanted him to do one last physical test before checking out. 

I get to Jenny's party around 8:00. A couple arrives at the same time, Julie Ann and Danny, and Jenny shouts to us that the door is unlocked, so we let ourselves in. Within a few minutes we've all got drinks and we're finding out about each other lounging in the living room. Julie Ann and Danny met on eHarmony, she with the SPCA, he in construction. Good people. Then Jen arrives. I'm on my third vodka-grapefruit juice, dressed, by the way, in this blue overcoat and Cosby sweater with my hair glued completely back with gel so that I look like some James Bond villain, and appropriately pseudo-Russian to match the theme. Jenny's in a tight black dress with elaborate necklaces and earrings. More and more people start showing up. People from around Midtown, people from Davis, more guys than girls but a fairly well-balanced group. Everyone seems to be talking to somebody, except for this grumpy guy who sits on the couch most the night. I mingle. I meet Kaitlyn and Kyle, I take a shot of vodka with an onion chaser, I drink a lot without getting sick, I smoke pot with Tomas, Kyle, Nick, Jenny and the spacey Asian kid. Great night.

Earlier that day, Dad took me to the Borders in Palo Alto to show me off to his coworkers and collect his paycheck. Afterward we spent about an hour at Rudy's Pub--Dad's favorite dive--and did crossword puzzles and ate chili and toasted to visiting each other again soon. Then I drove home. 

There was hardly any rain, despite all the weather warnings they've been ranting about on the news. I guess the really shitty stuff is supposed to come tonight. Snow at 1000 feet. That's Auburn, so I guess my mom might be seeing some snowflakes tomorrow.

The next day, Saturday, I woke up in Jenny's bed and we went out for breakfast at Lucky's, eggs benedict, delicious, and meandered over to my room to spend the afternoon huddled together on the floor next to the space heater. We made up the plans to see that animated French film L'Illusioniste at The Crest Theatre and we liked it very much. Along the way we happened across an odd-smelling basement thrift store, Old Soul for tea and the aisles of Office Max while I bought a memory card for the Nikon. After the movie, I walked Jenny back to her apartment and we listened to the Velvet Underground and Kings of Leon albums that I bought her for her birthday, watched This American Life, and made plans to have a bonfire at my house to celebrate Sean's news.

Sean is moving to San Diego soon to live with his sister.

Can't say I'm not sad, but I'm also very happy for him.

So yesterday after I got back from the Bay Area and put my stuff down in my room, I cleaned and showered, then walked over to Old Soul to get my paycheck. I saw the girl who looks like Amy Adams, but couldn't remember her real name, then felt dumb for calling her Amy Adams (she gets that a lot). Nick was talking to Don about classical music. I said hello to Joe, then saw Sierra sitting in the corner, reading, and I said hello to her, too. She's the girl who works at Jack's Urban Eats and Peet's Coffee, who I haven't seen in a couple weeks. Then I bounced over to the ATM. 

Passing back by Old Soul on my way home with a grilled chicken sandwich from Crepeville, I bumped into Jade in the alleyway. She's downright gorgeous and very sweet and we talked for a minute about her growing up in Ashland and moving to Sacramento with her then-boyfriend (who I think was triple-americano Gary, if I'm not mistaken) and the cold weather. Then Sierra comes walking up and asks Jade for a cigarette and I hang out with them until they're done smoking and we watch the daily bird migration that takes place overhead every dusk. A nice random little interaction. Jade seems cool. I excuse myself to go home and eat my sandwich and prepare for Jenny's party. 

Girls like Jade make me realize I'm not entirely ready to fall in love.

But when I'm with Jenny, my mind is all Jenny, and it's Jenny that I want. Each day spent with her makes me lose attraction to other women. Instead I take pride in my urge to isolate the attention I give to Jenny, and I feel poised to make that decision. If that's love, then that's love, but it's what I want to do and I'm just following this feeling for better or for worse.

- Left to Fry

The Day I Saw The Fryer Side Of My Family

My red beard was a big hit at the Fryer House today. For one because it's red, but also because it's more of a beard than my dad has ever been able to grow. It was strange giving him pointers. I told him it would probably help him get laid if he could grow one. 

Last night I closed at Old Soul. 

Chris stopped by to work on an essay and we made plans to go see Battle LA when it comes out on the 14th. My mission now is to convince Jenny to go, too, because she's not big on sci-fi stuff. 

Kirsten's date in San Francisco went well, as I knew it would, and she was texting me throughout the night wondering if it was bad to put out on the first date. "Don't do it if you don't want him to know that you like him," I said, but I think she does, and so I think she did. This is good for her. Good timing, too. 

Jenny came by for a minute after work to see the ridiculous (but awesome) outfit I'd bought before work that I'll be wearing to her Russian Winter Ball tomorrow night. It's a Cosby sweater underneath a soft blue two-button overcoat. We took a few quick hits from a joint to balance out my closing shift fervor and then I hopped into the Acura for my trip to Concord. 

It was a nice drive. Used cruise control. Stopped in Benicia to refill on calories. Made it to Bryce's house sometime after 11:00. 

My old college roommate is now fully married and living in a townhouse with hardwood floors, two cats, an office, flat-screen televisions and two stories. We stayed up and disposed of a body, killed zombies, watched bits of Blazing Saddles, ate not-delivery pizza, went on police chases through Liberty City and caught up on current affairs. Bryce is two semesters into graduate school, the poor bastard, and it was just like old times seeing him balance real life and school work. I'm glad he stayed up to spend time with me, despite his responsibilities, because it had been far too long since we got to kill zombies together (and this time with melee weapons!). Like everyone else I know, he's still trying to figure out what to make of this life, and I get the feeling he's on a good track, even if it gets a little stressful.

(Hi Bryce)

It was weird, the next day, to see my Grandma Fryer for the first time in god-knows how long and have a catch-up conversation in the kitchen while Mickey Avalon's "My Dick" played from Uncle Matt's bedroom in the back of the house. Talk about awkward. I'd never blabbered so much in my life just to cover up Avalon's dirty metaphors. Told her about the Peace Corps plan. She approved. She now has a very fluffy dog named Toby. 

My dad is doing good, which is good. He has a cat named Booger. 

We three went out to Best Buy to go Christmas/Birthday shopping and I walked away with a brand new digital camera, a Nikon Coolpix L110, which I am totally in love with. I suck at receiving gifts, however, and the whole time I just felt like asking for a DVD instead. But when grandmas are involved, you kind of have to expect to get a little spoiled. 

Afterward it was dinner with Dad, Grandma, Uncle Matt and his wife, Kathy, at Harry's Hofbrau, a childhood staple of mine, and I stuffed myself on turkey, potatoes and gravy before my dad took me over to the bar for a birthday drink. Jack and coke for me, Jack for him, and I told him a little bit about Jenny. The bartender told a funny joke and gave me a free beer mug. 

A guy goes to the store and picks up a frozen dinner, a six pack of beer and a candy bar. The woman who rings him up says, "Ah. You must be a bachelor." He replies, "I am. How did you know?" And she says, "Because you're ugly." 

Then I finally got to give my dad and grandma their Christmas presents. Dad got his short-story collection of anti-Christmas tales and a book about Pixar, which he oggled over with boyish admiration. For grandma I went with the tried-and-true and bought her a Wizard of Oz book. Coffee-table stuff, really, but the photos and illustrations are phenomenal. Everyone was happy. 

By text message, Katie and I decided not to stop being friends, but to cease the sleeping together bit, which is better for both of us.

Here are the first official photos taken with the new camera: 

- Left to Fry

The Day Zoe Came Back And Kirsten And Katie Faded A Little More Into The Background

Zoe's going to cover my Saturday morning shift, which is fantastic news for my liver and the enjoyability of Jenny's party this Friday. Not saying that it would be boring without alcohol--Jenny is anything but boring--but having to wake up at 5:00am the next day with a vodka headache would not be fun at all. So thank you Zoe. 

Little Zoe is back in town. She turned 19 while we worked together, when I was still 23 and found the age gap irrelevant, and for some reason being 24 makes me feel ten times older than her. I've also changed a lot since I last saw her. She came over after my closing shift to smoke a joint and catch up. She's been in Portland since about August. I've finally settled on a plan for my future. She seems so young, but like I always thought she also has such a good outlook on life that she really seems to have her shit together. She's back living with her mom now after giving Portland City College the old college try, planning instead to start at the San Francisco Art Academy this fall. She'll be here for the summer. She's pretty much exactly the same as I remember her, just with longer hair. Still orange-red. The same quick-witted humor and pessimistic contentment with reality. It was fun smoking with her, laughing as she sat in the windowsill and I cross-legged on the bed, reminiscing about Old Soul, sharing our successes. It makes me glad we had those few months last year to get to know each other. Zoe is just a lot of fun to be around, sort of like Michelle was when I worked with her at Aromas. I didn't sense any romantic notions between us, despite the general unspoken male-female curiosity that I think everyone has, these flashes of What If's. But what I think we have here is fine just where it is. I want Zoe to just be my friend, like Meredith or Bronwyn or Stephanie. 

I feel like I've broken the friendship I had with Katie. Part of me thinks it's my fault because I took her reaction from an earlier incident and made it a problem. I assumed she was growing attached to me in a way that I hadn't intended, or that I couldn't reciprocate honestly, and so I backed away to give her time to think. The last thing we said in the car was, "Think about it." So maybe the space between us is my doing entirely, or maybe it was mutual. Either way, she's been inquiring about watching LOST again soon and I'm honestly too busy this week to find time to hang out with her. So she asked me what was wrong and I told her that I'd never wanted a relationship and wanted to back off before disappointing her by not being something she thought that I was. She's going to see Edward Sharpe this weekend and if I had the money and didn't open on Sunday, I totally would've gone with her. But things are little strange now. She didn't like my reply and I'm pretty sure she's feeling a little manipulated, which sucks completely because I wasn't doing anything more than being exactly who I am, or feeling anything I wasn't really feeling. 

Kirsten stopped by work to get my keys and pick up a few things from my room. Kinda feels like having an ex-girlfriend move out, since she knows I've got feelings for Jenny and, as I told her, "that makes it hard up here," as I pointed to my head. She understands. She's got her date tomorrow and she's nervous. "He's either going to kill me or sweep me off my feet," she said. I wish her the best. She attached to me because the sex was great and the conversation never staled. The good facets of a relationship without the relationship. But she really needs a solid figure, not some barista renting a room in Midtown with commitment issues. 

Elsewhere: Drew has officially gotten his short story journal project up and running. Shaun had a date tonight and I told him he should go to Hot Italian. I'm trying to decide if I should sleep in tomorrow or try to go back to Zuda yoga to take advantage of my 10 for 10 deal or just let it slide away. I'm still sore from yesterday's session, so maybe a bit more rest wouldn't hurt. 

- Left to Fry

The Day I Reflected On Santa Cruz And Falling In Love

Santa Cruz.

I get off work and head down the alley to my home, where I don’t wait long for Jenny to show up and holler up at me from the street below. I hurry down to let her inside and we stall for a moment in my room before I ask her if she’s ready to go and the answer is yes. So next thing we’re in her little car and heading down L Street toward the freeway. We get pretty far along before the rain starts. 

We stop in Benicia to put air in Jenny's tires, fill the gas tank and grab two hot chocolates from the push-button machine. It's raining, lightly, and in the distance you can see the flaming tower of an oil refinery across the freeway. Seagulls fly in circles looking for scraps. It's about 3:00 in the afternoon, Saturday, as we pose for photographs in front of the No Trespassing sign keeping interlopers off the vibrant green hilltops. When we leave, we turn the iPod to classical music and head back to the interstate. 

It snows on the summit while Jenny handles 17 like a pro.

Then we’re in Santa Cruz, checking into the Paradise Inn a few blocks from the beach, down the street from The Boardwalk. Our middle-eastern host fumbles with the check-in and it takes a good half hour for Jenny to successfully give the guy her information, due to a nearly impossible language barrier and Paco’s deficient computer skills. No bother. I try to keep from laughing out loud and read a pamphlet about The Mystery Spot.

The manager’s name wasn’t really Paco, but the nickname stuck.

The hotel room is tiny and uncomfortable, as expected. Jenny’s intention had been to stay at her friend Inga’s parent’s house, but they were in town. Then the hostel was fully booked. So here we are at some cheap motel, but it’s perfectly cheesy and I love it immediately. Jenny’s worried about bed bugs. We put our stuff down and feel out the room and then head out to search for food.

The sun sets while we share a pizza and two pints of beer. I’d forgotten my paper ID and my expired license was a concern, but this bartender didn’t seem to mind. We leave just as the place gets crowded with off-season locals.

We meet Inga at the bowling alley bar around the corner. Newly 21, the girl looks like she’s 25, and the way she wants to leave immediately makes me think that she’s just spent a half hour being hit on by sleazy forty-year-old men. Inga and Jenny met at UC Davis before Inga left to return to the coast. Her boyfriend is out of town. She takes us on a little tour of downtown Santa Cruz.

Coming from the perspective of an adult, I never realized how neat this city really is. As a kid on forced family outings, the vibe was much different. I liked being able to appreciate the city with a new point of view. I could see myself living here.

We went to a handful of bars. I got pretty drunk off a mix of beer, red wine and screwdrivers. We smoked American Spirits and I spent too much money and pissed in public. We played pool at some point and also happened upon a balcony with a fire pit, where we stood and talked in the late-night drizzle about sex, relationships and life after college. Inga wanted to drive home but we convinced her to stay at her friend’s house and Jenny and I went back to the motel. 

In the morning our neighbors decided to watch television at full volume. Jenny and I tried to ignore it as best we could, but couldn’t. At least there weren’t any bed bugs. At last the noise pollution and sunlight pouring in through the window forced us into consciousness. 

I happened to find a Frisbee in the alleyway behind the motel and had to hop out the window to get it. We first tried the café next door to Paradise Inn, but it was closed, and we spent a while admiring a parrot chilling in the branches of the tree in front of the seemingly-vacant shop.

Then we made it to the beach. Sand. Ocean. The pier. The Boardwalk. Waves. Seagulls. Off-season crowds. Kids in the water. People running. Shells. Algae. Sand castles. Cartwheels. Sailboats. Sunshine. Sand dollars. Distant clouds, gray and gloomy, slowly approaching. We walked along the length of The Boardwalk, soaking in the scenery as much as we could, realizing how much we missed the ocean and the beach, and when it came time to head back and meet Inga for lunch, we took the route through the near-desolate Boardwalk to admire the crumbly old rides.

Paco was at the motel, and how conveniently because Jenny’s card-key was rendered useless by sharing a pocket with her cellphone. Paco repaired the card and gave us suggestions for photographs and excitedly wished us a good day.

We left the motel by car to meet Inga at a coffee-shop a few minutes away from the shore. There was a line. Inga couldn’t stay long. We said our hello’s and goodbye’s on the coffee-shop porch and hugged and went our separate ways.

Jenny wanted to take me to Café Brazil but it was too crowded. After checking out of Paradise Inn, we went to the Bagelry instead. Jenny found my keys in her red coat pocket and neither of us had any idea how my keys got there.

Next we went back to the beach, found parking, and smoked pot in the field across from the cliff edges and talked about threesomes. We watched the surfers ride waves back to shore and then found our way down to the water, where we laid for a while on the beach in the sunlight with our eyes closed and ears tuned to the comforting soundtrack of a Santa Cruz afternoon. Next we strolled the length of the Pier to look at sleeping sea lions and souvenir shops, and when we made it to the end we realized that it was time to go.

After a brief stop at Emily’s Bakery for lunch, we made our way back to the freeway and left Santa Cruz around 4:30. Maybe a half hour later, we switched spots and I drove the rest of the way to Sacramento. Sacramento was a little depressing after spending most of the day on the beach.

I went over to Jenny’s apartment and stayed the night and left early in the morning for work at Old Soul the next day. After work I went to yoga with Jenny around 4:30 and sweated like I’ve never sweated before. We had Chinese food for dinner, watched The Royal Tenenbaums, read some poetry, and then fell asleep late in the night.

I’m more or less convinced that I’m in love with Jenny.

I told this to Kirsten, who has a date in San Francisco on Wednesday.

From Kirsten @ 11:07 AM

What does your gut say? Don’t be wary. If you bet small, you lose big when you win.

To Kirsten @ 11:08 AM

My heart says being in love will be just as good for me as getting my heart broken, so I can’t really lose.

From Kirsten @ 11:09 AM

Exactly.

I’m heading out to see Bryce on Wednesday night after work, then I’ll swing over to Redwood City to visit with my Dad and the Fryer side of the family. I have to leave on Friday before 3:00 so I can make it home in time to go to Jenny’s birthday party.

- Left to Fry