The Life List (The List Trilogy)

Ouchy

August, 1999

Not only did the day after the double break-up hurt real bad, but so has every day after that, especially the week after Leo’s graduation when we were supposed to be in Mexico. I showed up at the airport hoping he had decided to forgive me, but he hadn’t. I boarded the plane and spent the next five days at the Palmilla Resort crying myself to death in front of the bartender named Cornelio, or was it Cordero? Who cares, I don’t even think he understood a word I was saying and it wasn’t the language barrier that got in the way either; it was the babbling baby talk made even more unclear by the never-ending cascade of tears streaming down my face.

I’ve been back on Dr. Maria’s couch more times than I’ve had the cash in my pocket to pay for, and sometimes we don’t even talk, I just don’t want to cry alone anymore. My job satisfaction is at an all-time low, I hate everyone there, and I hate getting up in the morning to face them. They’re all selfish savages that suck what little amount of life I have left in me. Most days it seems like the only thing I have the energy to do is lift a wine glass. The only good news I have to share is that I finally met with my attorney to get the ball rolling on the divorce.

Confirmation of Leo’s move to New York came when I hacked into his voicemail and heard a lovely message from Taddeo. In it he said he’d pick Leo up at the airport on July nineteenth at five in the evening, show him “their” place, and then hit the town for a night of “debauchery.”

The message was topped off with a nice big BLEHHHHH. I can only imagine the debauchery; it makes those two bar hopping gutter sluts he was with at the Red Devil Lounge seem like a couple of nuns. I do my best to shake off the sick thoughts of Leo sleeping with other women in New York City by almost doing it myself. Yes, to numb my pain, I’ve turned into quite the Courtney Love party girl these days, even traveling to Los Angeles to hang out with Mark, the tatted-up defense attorney.

For security reasons, I brought Slutty Co-worker with me to L.A. During the day, we lunched at The Ivy where she made a fool out of herself gawking at celebrities, and I drank myself into oblivion. Then at night, we partied our asses off in the V.I.P. section of The Viper Room. No waiting in line for anything. Mark is super dialed in and hangs with people that I’m fairly certain I see every night on Entertainment Tonight. Normally his posse would scare the crap out of me, but the massive amounts of alcohol I now consume makes me comfy cozy around pretty much anyone. It’s like I’m one with the Playboy bunnies and drug dealers we sit amongst. I’m not the fun kind of party girl, though. I’m the sarcastic one who drinks as much as she can to forget about what a mess her life has turned into. But, drunk or not, my intentions for going to Los Angeles were clear. Do the things with boys that Leo’s doing with girls.

“Can I get you another vodka tonic?”

I can’t tell if Mark has one head or two or if it’s even him I’m staring at for that matter.

“I’ll take four.”

“You’re cute, you know that?”

“Yep.”

“Dance with me.”

The last time I danced was with Leo at The Red Devil Lounge.

He held me so close. He smelled so good. I NEED MY DRUGS!!!!!!

Shake it off, girl!

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Come on, I won’t hurt you.”

You can’t.

Mark pulls me to my feet and out to the dance floor where he wraps his neon dragon painted arms around my waist. This doesn’t feel right. Who cares though, Chrissy, just be a guy! Think of how many times Leo’s probably done this since he went away. Oh my God, I want to kill someone right now! Shake it off!

“Are you okay?”

“Just a little tipsy, I guess.”

“Are you too tipsy to feel this?”

And then there it was, my first skanky unfamiliar kiss. Granted I didn’t know Leo very long before I kissed him, only a few hours. But it was as if I knew him my entire life. This feels dreadful.

“I’m sorry, Mark, I can’t. You’re an incredible guy…”

Sorta.

“But, my mind is elsewhere these days, and I can’t do this.”

“It’s cool. Maybe I’ll do something throughout the night to make you change your mind.”

And by that he meant buying me drink after drink and repeatedly trying to kiss me. Once I had enough of his machine gun style kissing tactics, Slutty Co-worker and I excused ourselves to go to the bathroom and never returned. That was the last time I ever saw Mark. But sadly, it wasn’t the last time I attempted a skanky unfamiliar kiss.

About a month after the Viper Room incident, Slutty Co-worker and I were back at Buckley’s searching for a way for me to get back at Leo. And boy, did we find one. Well actually, we found five. Five guys from the Cal football team. Amazingly, I managed to hook up with a guy even younger than Leo. This, if my memory serves me, means the next most unlikely event to occur is that the Oakland Raiders will go to the playoffs.

My guy, who was the quarterback, invited Slutty Co-worker and me back to his parent’s house (yeah, you read that correctly) for a late night BBQ and make-out extravaganza. Apparently he was “house sitting,” but truth be told, I wouldn’t have cared if his mom were standing in the kitchen with milk and cookies. I wanted pay back for what my mind had convinced me Leo was doing. I no longer cared about the all-important emotional connection, and I was willing to suffer the day-after repercussions of my actions and get dirty with the guy.

“Hey, let’s go in your old bedroom.”

“Uhhhhh, my mom turned it into a scrapbooking room.”

“God, that’s gay. All right then, let’s go to her room.”

About half way down the hall, I grab QB’s belt loop, yank him towards me, and mack on him hard. I think he’s cute. Pull away, get another look of the face, good enough, dive back in. Damn it, if Leo’s doing it, why shouldn’t I? This isn’t about pleasure, it’s about retribution!

I grab at his pants and pull him to the floor, and the kisses are flying everywhere as the dry humping commences. Wowie, his stomach is as rock hard as a twenty-one –year- old football player’s…oh wait!

“Are you sure we should do this? How about if we go out tomorrow night and get to know each other better?”

“Dude, isn’t that what a girl would say?”

“I know, but I don’t want to blow it. You’re just so pretty and stuff.

I’d like to get to know you and…”

“How about we do this first and get to know each other later?”

“Are you serious, you wanna have sex?”

“No, you’re right, let’s just cuddle.”

“Wait, are you being serious about that?”

“No, dumbass, I’m not being serious about cuddling! Come on, let’s just have some fun, can you do that?”

“Hell yeah, but…you just seem so nice. Why don’t we hang out and talk for a while.”

“Man, you’re about as gay as your mom’s scrapbooking room.”

All I want to do is have sex to get back at Leo, and this guy wants to snuggle! I can’t catch a break. I grab my clothes that are strewn down the hallway and yank Slutty Co-worker off of the wide receiver’s lap. As we make our way to the car, the quarterback comes running out with his pants unzipped.

“Hey, I was serious! Will you go out with me?”

“Sure. I’ll call ya.”

As we drive off, I hear him yell out, “But you don’t have my numberrrrrrrrrrrr.”

Yesterday, after I got done telling Dr. Maria about the sexual shenanigans of Chrissy Anderson, she surprisingly had a smile on her face.

“Dr. Maria, I swear when I look in the mirror I don’t even recognize myself. I’m spinning in a million different directions at a million miles an hour, trying to escape my thoughts. But seriously…a college quarterback!? I’m making everything worse.”

“You know what the best thing about you is, Chrissy?”

“My ability to repeatedly make an ass out of myself?”

“That you know when you’re making an ass out of yourself and you know when to get help with your destructive behavior. Look, what you’re doing is perfectly normal. You just have some kinks you need to work out of your system. But you might want to cut back on the drinking and go back to the yoga. You found a lot of answers with the meditation. It’s hard to meditate when you’re drunk.”

She was right. Last night I went to yoga class, and instead of drinking a bottle of wine, I drank a bottle of water, and I slept better than I had in a long time. In the morning, I’m jolted out of my deep slumber by the pounding on my door. Leo?! Just in case, I quickly check myself in the mirror before I open the door. Deep breathe in and…

“Hi there, sign here please.”

Damn. But maybe the flowers are from him. My hands are shaking as I open the card.

Happy Birthday, Chrissy. We hope you find what you’re looking for this year.

Love, Court, Nic & Kel

Holy crap, today’s my 30th birthday. Where’s that bottle of wine I didn’t drink last night?

I know your life is empty

And you hate to face this world alone

So you’re searching for an angel

Someone who can make you whole

I cannot save you

I can’t even save myself… I am just as f*cked as you

So just save yourself

(Safe Yourself, Stabbing Westward)