BUTTERFLIES & SOFT KISSES.......RECONNECTING WITH MY HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART

I just got back into town from visiting Rodrigo.  If you've forgotten, he was my middle school and high school love.  He's in the midst of a divorce and contacted me through Facebook a few months ago. We've been talking on the phone, emailing and texting each other since we reconnected.  Rodrigo's birthday was last Saturday, so he invited me to come down to San Diego to celebrate with he and his friends.

I felt a little bit apprehensive about making the trip down there.  But my excitement about seeing him again outweighed any nerves.  Plus, my girlfriend, Nora and her family live just outside of San Diego, so I decided to crash with them while I was there.

NORA:  Are you excited to see him?

ME:  I'm anxious.  And a little nauseous.

NORA:  Please don't throw up. I just had my carpets cleaned.

ME:  What if we don't have anything to talk about?

NORA:  You have over 30 years of stuff to talk about.  You'll end up reminiscing over middle school and high school. Then you'll talk about all the things that have happened since you last saw each other.


And she was right.  When I walked into the sports bar an hour later, Rodrigo was standing at a pool table and instinctively turned around.  His face lit up.  Seeing his reaction made me smile.  Then Rodrigo walked over and scooped me up in a bear hug.  I felt my face flush and those damn butterflies started flapping around in my stomach.  

RODRIGO:  Wow, Gia. I can't believe you're here.  You look amazing.

ME:  YOU look amazing. Happy Birthday!

RODRIGO:  Should I be happy to be getting older?

ME:  Absolutely! You're alive.  You're healthy.  And if you point me to the bar, you'll have a drink in your hand in 2 minutes.

RODRIGO:  And more importantly, I'm spending my birthday with you.

ME:  I didn't think it was possible, but you've gotten even more charming with age.

We walked to the bar and did two shots of Jamison together.  Then Rodrigo introduced me to his friends.  Don was his best friend from an old job in Seattle.  He was a good-looking guy with bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair that was receding slightly. Tall, fit and very masculine.  Turns out he used to be in the military and works for the government, but he wouldn't tell me exactly what he did.  My guess is FBI.  Don had flown in a few days earlier for Rodrigo's celebration.  Julie and Brian were a couple seated on bar stools next to the pool table.

 Julie was your average looking Southern California girl with brown hair.  She was pleasant enough but definitely sized me up as Rodrigo introduced us. Her quietness and presence made me feel like she wasn't entirely comfortable in her own skin.  Brian was the exact opposite.  With his chubby, bright red cheeks and a huge smile, Brian was nothing but laughs and a good time.  The kind of guy you'd want to take to a baseball game and chug beers with.  And then there was Marco- a hysterical little Mexican dude who stood at the level of my breasts.  And complimented them.

We all talked, laughed, and played pool for the next few hours.  Don asked me questions about what Rodrigo was like as a kid and how we met.  Rodrigo sat next to me all night, our knees touching.  Glances were exchanged.  I flirtaciously touched his arm and he put his hand on my back as we talked.  The night eventually started to wind down.  Julie and Brian drove off together in their car.  I offered to give Rodrigo, Don and Marco a lift to Rodrigo's apartment since they had taken a cab.  When we arrived at Rodrigo's place, I climbed out of the driver's side of my SUV.  Rodrigo met me behind the car with an enveloping hug and a slow, soft kiss.

RODRIGO:  Thanks so much for making the trip down here. It was really good to see you.

ME:  It was good seeing you too. (eyelashes batting)

RODRIGO:  I'd love to come visit you in L.A. one of these weekends. Take you out and show you a good time.

ME:  That'd be nice. (another well timed eyelash batting)

RODRIGO:  Are you sure you don't want to crash here tonight.

I looked behind him at Don and Marco waiting and pretending not to watch us.

ME:  No thanks.  I think the guys want some one-on-one time with you.

RODRIGO:  OK.  Be safe driving back to your friends place.  Text me when you get there.

ME:  I will.  Happy Birthday.

I hopped into my car and made the 15 minute trip back to Nora's.  The house was quiet. I dodged squeaky kids toys as I tiptoed through the garage into the living room and upstairs into their guest bedroom.  As soon as I laid down, my cell phone buzzed.  It was Rodrigo.
       
                  RODRIGO:  Just wanted to make sure you got in safely.
                                        Thanks again for sharing my birthday with
                                        me. With everything that's going on in my
                                        life, it felt really good to be surrounded by
                                        people I care about.

                              ME:  Yes. I made it in ok.  Thanks for inviting me.
                                        It was so great seeing you again after all
                                        this time.

                 RODRIGO:  Did I mention you looked incredible
                                       tonight?  I can't wait to see you again.

                              ME:  I'm blushing! It would be really nice to
                                       see you again =)

                 RODRIGO:  I'll make it happen. Sweet dreams beautiful.

                              ME:  Good night. Talk soon.

He said sex doesn't feel as good with a condom

      After leaving the BE Fit Magazine offices, I felt like a celebration drink was overdue.  So I called my girlfriend, Veronica who worked as an assistant for a record label in Beverly Hills.

ME:  Vergina!

VERONICA:  I hate it when you call me that.

ME:  I know. But I have good news. Guess who WON'T be standing on the unemployment line anymore?

VERONICA:  Who even stands in unemployment lines?  Isn't all that crap on the internet?

ME:  Uhhhh!  Will you stop asking silly questions and get excited for me please? I GOT A JOB!  Let's go celebrate.  Happy Hour drinks on me.

VERONICA:  Now you're getting my Vergina wet.  Where shall I meet you?

ME:  Rodeo Drive baby!

VERONICA:  What?

ME:  I've always wanted to say that… get it?  Pretty Woman?  Kit?

                            SILENCE.

ME:  Nevermind.  Just meet me at Villa Blanca.

     Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up to Villa Blanca and promptly pulled away.  $25 for valet parking!?  Were they kidding?  I mean-Mama got a new job, but she hasn't gotten her first paycheck yet.  I found street parking and hoofed it to the entrance of the swanky Mediterranean restaurant just in time to meet Veronica.

ME:  Hey lovely.

VERONICA:  Oh, please!  I just got my period and I feel like a bloated cat in heat.

ME:  Horny period?  That happens to me too. 

VERONICA:  Is it possible for a woman to get blue balls?

I laughed as the hostess led us to our table on the front patio. 

ME:  I think a woman can get blue lips, but not so sure about the blue balls.

VERONICA: Well in that case, my lips were so blue last night they were black.

ME:  What happened?!

VERONICA:  So I went out on a third date with Eric.

ME:  You're still seeing him?  I thought you said he was too short for you.

VERONICA:  Girl-I've changed my mind.  I've decided I like them short, white and whipped just like Eric.  And he's really been blowing my skirt up.

ME:  What kind of kinky shit are the two of you into?  What is he blowing up your skirt for?

VERONICA:  Gia, that means he gets the "Vergina" moist.  He blows up my skirt!

ME: Oh, ok. Got it. Go on.

(Veronica is from Trinidad & I'm constantly confused by her "Island Speak.")

VERONICA:  So I go back to his place after our date for a nightcap.  And things start getting all hot.  Next thing you know, I'm naked and he's naked.  And of course, I ask him where the condom is at.

ME:  And?

VERONICA:  And he says, he doesn't like them because it doesn't feel as good with a condom.

ME:  Is he serious?! What are we, in 10th grade? 

VERONICA:  I know!

ME:  What did you say?

VERONICA:  I told him what feels even LESS good is not having sex at all.

ME:  Then what?  Did he tell you he was allergic to condoms too?

VERONICA:  Nope. Then he said he didn't have any.

ME:  How convenient.  Then he asked to just put the tip in, right?

VERONICA:  I think he thought about it.  But I didn't give him the chance.  I put my clothes back on this hot body and marched myself to my car.

ME:  Good for you!

VERONICA:  I've had one too many slip ups, slip offs, and period no-shows to risk another one with him.  And we're not exclusive.  I don't know what other whore he's sticking it in.  My new rule is ALWAYS make him wear a condom.

 ME:  Speaking of condoms, I think my new boss may need one for his eyes?

VERONICA:  Oh, wow!  Already?  Didn't you just start working there?

ME:  Yes! But when he looks at me, he does that thing with his eyes that makes me feel like I'm wearing lingerie.  And not La Perla or Intenzioni, but Fredericks or TRASHY lingerie.

VERONICA:  Yuck!

ME:  Thank God I get to work from home.

VERONICA:  What's the gig exactly?

ME:  I'm writing for this online magazine called BE Fit and the owner of the company is this ex-Mr. Olympia.  He's tall with this creamy milk chocolate skin.  And he looks like he could still bench press a Ford truck.

VERONICA:  Ooooh.

ME:  But he's married. I definitely saw a ring. And I saw pictures of his kids in his office.  I don't know…maybe it's just me.  Maybe I'm being overly sensitive.  He's probably not even thinking about me in that way.

VERONICA:  Honey, look at you. I'M thinking about you in that way.

ME:  Veronica you're crazy.

VERONICA:  But so what?  He wants to bang your back out.  Big deal.  How many executives do you think hire someone because of the slight possibility of seeing their nipsy russels.

ME:  Veronica! He hired me because I'm a great writer!!

VERONICA:  Of course you are. And you've also got a sweet ass.  You just have to set your boundaries with him and everything will be fine.

ME:  Okay. You're right.  Where is our waitress?

Who no longer has to wait by the mailbox for her unemployment check? THIS GIRL!

Spring has Sprung! The sun is shining. Flowers are blooming. And I've got a pep in my step because MAMA GOT A NEW JOB! I got a call to write for an online fitness magazine. The owner is an ex Mr. Olympia. A good looking brother in his early 50's. Charming. Full of smiles and compliments. And built like a brick shithouse.

After reading several of my articles and conducting a Skype interview, it was finally time to meet my new boss in person.

 The BE FIT Magazine headquarters were situated at the top of a tall, swanky building in Century City. The office had sprawling views of Los Angeles from the beaches in Santa Monica to the hills of Hollywood.  Mr. Fit sat behind his large Carpathian elm desk with his feet propped up Mad Men style.   He dismissed his assistant who had escorted me in, and walked around to shake my hand.  His eyes slowly took me in from the fedora titled on the side of my head right on down to my Giuseppe Zanotti platforms.

"Giovanna!  It is my deepest pleasure to meet you.  You are even more beautiful in person."

I blushed and took his hand as he kissed mine.

"Wow. Thank you. It's very nice to meet you as well.  I love your office.  The views are incredible."

Mr. Fit walked over to his wet bar and began pouring himself a cocktail.  I felt like I was meeting with J.R. Ewing.  Everything's bigger in Texas, they say.

And apparently Mr. Fit was too, or so his super tight trousers hinted.  By the way -who in the hell drinks a double whiskey on the rocks at 11am?  Mr. Fit gestured as if to ask if I wanted a drink too.

"No, I 'm good. Thanks."

"Well you're welcome to come enjoy the views here whenever you like.  If you've got writer's block, come on down here. I'll set you up in one of our spare offices."

"Thank you very much. I'm really excited about writing for BE FIT," I said taking off my hat and placing it in my lap.

Mr. Fit walked around to my side of the desk and leaned back against it just a foot or so away from me. "Giovanna, as I said during our teleconference, I want to encourage you to bring your young, hip style to our publication.  I don't want those tired how-to workout articles.  They've been done to death!  I want fun. I want adventure. I want sex."

I coughed and nervously tucked my hair behind my ear.  "I'm sorry. Did you say you want sex?"

"Yes!  Sex," he said emphatically.  "I want to make this into a sexy magazine. And by sexy, I mean edgy!  I want your articles to lead the way in innovative new workouts.  If the latest craze is couples taking tantric sex swing classes at Equinox-I want you to be the one breaking that story.  Get into those classes! Swing on those swings!"

I took out my notebook and began scribbling furiously.  Partially out of embarrassment but mostly so he wouldn't see me hiding a laugh.  "Well, I'm actually single. So it might be hard for me to attend a couples tantric sex swing class, " I said.

He took a swig of his whiskey and walked towards the windows. "Ahhhh, single. I remember those days. Best days of my life." Mr. Fit climbed up into his window ledge and pressed his nose against the glass.  "Now, I'm just an old married guy stuck in a loveless marriage."  Placing his glass by his feet, he suddenly stepped into a handstand.  Where in the hell was I? Cirque du Soleil!

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "I'm sure married life can't be that bad. Um. I know there's a window there and everything, but you're kind of making me nervous."

He turned right side up.  "You're right. I got three fantastic kids out of the deal. The self-involved, manipulative wife must've been the bonus."

"So...no cocktail parties at your house I take it?"

He laughed just a little too loudly.  "I wouldn't do that to my staff.  I'd like them to stick around.  Enough about me!" Mr. Fit hopped off of the window ledge and I inhaled for the first time since I walked into his office.

"Beautiful Giovanna, let's get you out there on your first assignment.  I want you to write an article on how you stay in shape.  Seven days in the life of Giovanna.  I know our readers want to know how a young, hot, single gal like yourself keeps your body so tight."

I smiled and fumbled to put my notebook back into my bag.  "I can definitely do that.  I've been wanting to take a new yoga booty ballet class at my gym.  So this will be my motivation."

Mr. Fit walked alongside me as we headed to the door of his office.  "I can't imagine you'd need any extra motivation.  I can tell you're ambitious all on your own." As I reached for the doorknob, he put his hand against the hard wood to stop me from opening it.

"If you need anything at all Giovanna, you call me. Anything. I get this feeling around you like I just want to take care of you.  Here's my personal cell phone line."  Mr. Fit handed me his business card.  "You can call me anytime of day or night on that number."

I accepted the card and reached out my hand for a firm shake. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

Mr. Fit took my hand and pulled me in for a big hug. That lasted just a little bit too long.

"Good luck kid. Knock 'em dead out there!"

I smiled and waved almost tripping over a flower pot as I walked towards the exit.  The receptionist pursed her lips and shot me a knowing stare as I said good-bye to her.

This job was going to be interesting.

Did She REALLY Just Offer Me Her Boyfriends Sperm?

I recently celebrated a birthday. It was nice. I was surrounded by my friends. We all did a little dancing and drank some strong cocktails. But my lean lemon lime martini didn't mask the reality that is my life. I'm single, one year deeper into my thirties and according to my mother-my eggs are drying up. You see, I received a very loving text from Mommy Dearest right after the New Year..........

MOM: I WAS WATCHING DR. OZ TODAY. AS SOON AS YOU COME INTO SOME MONEY, YOU SHOULD FREEZE YOUR EGGS.

Thanks Mom. And what's up with Dr. Oz anyway? I think he's brainwashing the world. The last time I got a freaky Facebook message from a guy I barely knew, it was because of Dr. Oz.

FREAKY FACEBOOK GUY: DR. OZ SAYS THE AVERAGE MALE PENIS SIZE IS 5 1/2 INCHES. I GUESS I SHOULD CONSIDER MYSELF LUCKY THAT I AM 9 INCHES AND VERY THICK.

ME: UM...DID I ASK? YOU ARE GETTING DELETED.

So anyway, back to my mom. Naturally, her text message sent me into a complete tizzy. I started trying to figure out how I could get the fast cash to freeze my eggs in case I don't meet someone in the next 3-5 years who would make a halfway decent husband/baby-daddy. Maybe I could sell a few of my eggs on CraigsList? I should be able to get a pretty penny for them. I mean, I'm attractive, healthy, with a good build, college-educated with a high IQ, great head of hair and child-bearing hips.....WAIT A SECOND! There's got to be some other way. I decided to table the issue for now, because I was making myself crazy. Besides, it was almost happy hour and I always think more clearly after a drink.

Luckily, I didn't have to drink alone. My friend Karl called me and said he had an extra ticket to the Lauryn Hill concert in Downtown L.A. Karl was going with his girlfriend, Dana who I'd met a few times, and our mutual friend, Bill. I love me some Lauryn Hill so of course I said yes.

After the show, we stopped in at a cute little Cuban restaurant. As the guys searched for a table, Dana and I bellied up to the bar.

ME: So how's your little girl?

DANA: She's wonderful! Eight years old is such a great age. She's my little stylist. She won't let me walk out of the house unless she approves of what I'm wearing.

ME: That's adorable.

DANA: What about you? Do you want to have kids.

ME: Actually I do. I just haven't met the right guy yet. Maybe I'll end up adopting or something. I don't know.

DANA: Well you're still young enough to have your own child.

ME: Yeah. I know. But I'm not really meeting too many suitable candidates.

DANA: Why don't you have a baby with Karl?

(cue me spitting out my lean lemon lime martini onto the bar)

ME: Me have a baby with Karl?!

DANA: Sure!

ME: Why don't YOU have a baby with Karl? He's YOUR boyfriend.

DANA: I already have a kid. I'm in my 40's. I've been married. I've done that whole thing. But Karl hasn't yet. And he's 53 so he's not getting any younger. I think he'd make a great dad.

ME: Shouldn't you check with him first before offering his sperm?

DANA: He'd do it. We were going to give some to our lesbian friends who wanted a baby.

ME: I think I'm okay for now. But thank you. I think.

DANA: OK. Have it your way. But it's here if you want it.

ME: Bartender? Another drink please!

DANA: What kind of guy are you looking for? You should date a Jewish man. They make great fathers and husbands.

ME: Well I'm a Christian and I'd prefer to marry someone who's also a Christian. But I'm not completely opposed to dating a Jewish guy. I like Jews. I mean-I like you and Karl, don't I?

(in my head: Was that racist?)

DANA: Oh look. The guys got us a table. Grab your drink!

TEXT THIS!

Single men, take note. I'm about to spit some knowledge that will increase your chances of getting a woman to go out on a date with you, which, in turn, will raise your chances of getting laid. Are you ready? STOP TEXTING!!! Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. But sometimes a woman's got to get loud for a man to really get it.

A few weeks ago, I attended a Christmas party for my friend's production company. An open bar and some top quality sushi led to a few conversations with some eligible bachelors. One particular blue eyed, muscular gentleman seemed to take quite an interest in this unemployed writer. We chatted throughout the night, danced to some reggae and snapped a few photos with my new iPhone. After messaging the pics to my Christmas party paramour, he sprang to his car when his boys gave a whistle. And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But he did text me a few hours later inviting me to join him for a late night meal with his friends at a local diner. I promptly declined. My girlfriend had driven us and was anxious to get home to her man. But Mr. Muscles was sweet enough to text me again later in the evening to make sure I got home ok. AND he invited me out for a dancing date later that week. I accepted and we continued the casual texting throughout the week.

As Thursday (a.k.a. First Date Night) approached, I became a little anxious that he had not actually called me on the phone to check in, chat, and plan our evening. And as it turned out, I had a writing workshop Thursday evening that I knew would probably run pretty late into the night. So when he texted me Wednesday evening, I informed him of my scheduling snafu. His immediate text response?
"That's okay. I was thinking of inviting the crew out anyway."

The CREW?! Who was The Crew? I didn't know any fucking crew! Did he mean his friends?? Who invites their friends out on a first date without running it by someone? Red flag #1.

I immediately texted back my displeasure....
"Really? I thought it was just going to be me and you on our date?"

He responded...
"Yeah we can def do one on one. I just gotta figure out what to do with myself until 10 when your class ends."

And there was red flag #2 waving in my face. As far as I'm concerned, a 41 year-old man should not have a problem occupying himself until 10pm. And if he can't, it isn't my concern. Bitchy? Maybe. But I'm from Miami and we keeps it real!

I could feel myself becoming very annoyed over this text conversation, so I decided to end it with my final text.....

"Ok. Well I'll let you think about it. Call me in the morning so we can talk."

But the next morning brought no phone call from Mr. Blue Eyes. Red flag #3. In fact, it wasn't until 4pm on First Date Night that he finally texted (NOT called me).....

"Sup mama?"

Really? Did he really think we were on the 'Sup mama' level already?
I quickly let him know that I had expected a phone call in the morning. In fact, I prefer to speak to a person a few times on the phone before going out with a relative stranger. So a date tonight was not going to happen. He apologized for not calling and gave me some excuses about being busy in the morning and going to the gym. Typical muscle Head excuse. But in my mind, he'd already been dismissed. Honestly, if he didn't have the time or inclination to pick up the phone to chat with me, then I certainly didn't have the time to drive 25 minutes to meet him for a date.

So the red flags can stop waving. I see ya.

Second Chances.....(continued)

I just got off of the phone with Rodrigo. After ten minutes of breathing into a paper bag, I have regained my composure enough to sit down and decide if I'm going to see him.

It turns out he's going through a divorce with Jana. They've been separated now for a few months. He's pretty emotional about the whole thing. Not like, crying on the phone emotional. But definitely still in the processing stage. He said he's been spending alot of time alone thinking about what went wrong. They grew apart and want completely different things out of life. The marriage finally ended after 2 years of arguing. They don't have any children together. The two kids in the photo with him are his nephews.

Before we hung up, he invited me to come down to San Diego for his birthday this weekend. A few of his closest friends are flying in to cheer him up. They'll be hanging out at a bar in PB, shooting some pool and having drinks.....

I'm not sure if I should go. Of course, I'd love to see him, but the whole divorce thing kind of makes me feel weird. We'll see.......

Second Chances

I once had a star-crossed teenage romance with a boy named Rodrigo. We were in middle school when we met. I was 13 years old. He was 12. And we were both a bundle of raging hormones and unexplored sexuality. Obviously, my mom could sense the teenage lust and forbade me from seeing him. I did see him though-every chance I got. When my mom was pre-occupied on a long distance phone call with my grandmother, I would sprint the 1 1/2 miles to his house, just to sit outside and talk to him for 10 minutes. Then I'd run back home, my heart racing more from the threat of getting caught than the exercise. And after school, he'd walk me home and we'd kiss on my front porch until our lips were raw and red. This went on for 3 or 4 years. We didn't really know what to do after the kissing got old. Well, at least I didn't know what to do. But he did.

One evening when my mom was out with my brother at a boy scouts meeting, Rodrigo came over and we made our first attempt at making love. Funny how you can know what all the working parts are, but you're not exactly sure what to do with them. We fumbled. He fingered. I pulled. We both pushed and wiggled. I felt a pinch and put an end to the sex session. If it was going to hurt, then I wasn't interested.

We tried unsuccessfully a few more times. But Rodrigo eventually got bored and decided there were other girls who were much more willing and eager to close the deal. We remained friends, even after he went on to date a few of the girls in my social circle. My mind was more focused on finishing up high school then finishing off Rodrigo. When my senior prom rolled around, I didn't have a date. My best girlfriend, Laura was dating Rodrigo's best friend, Mike. So it only made sense we'd all go together. We had a great time. We drank beer in the limo, and did the traditional red carpet processional into the prom. Inside, I danced my heart out with my friends. And right before we left, Rodrigo and I had our photo taken in front of a gaudy "Under the Sea" backdrop.

Although my mom had given me a strict 1am curphew, I had my mind set on staying out the entire night. Besides, I was leaving for college in a few months. I figured I couldn't get into TOO much trouble for breaking my curphew. So Rodrigo, Laura, Mike and I all headed to a nearby motel to have a few more beers. Rodrigo rented us our own room and had a few more beers while making out. Then, the mood suddenly changed. I told Rodrigo I had no plans to sleep with him that night. He got pissed and left for about an hour. When he came back, he cuddled up behind me and we slept like babies.

I graduated and went off to college. I met "The Italian" and dated him for four years. It was during one of our infamous "breaks" that I decided to head home to Miami for Thanksgiving. Laura knew I needed cheering up and convinced me to go out to a local bar. And there was Rodrigo. Looking just as smooth and sexy as he had 4 years earlier. As soon as he saw me, he scooped me up in a big bear hug. He told me how great I looked and I echoed his sentiments. At least, I think that's what I said. I couldn't really hear myself because my heart was pounding in my ears.

We made small talk for a few minutes, staring in each other's eyes as if there wasn't anyone else in the room. Then, he dropped the bomb. He was engaged and getting married in 3 months. My heart sank. I awkwardly congratulated him. I actually knew his fiance, Jana. She was a beautiful and sweet girl I'd ran track with in high school. I wished him the best and when he asked me for my number I changed the subject and snuck away at my first opportunity.

A week ago, Rodrigo friend requested me on Facebook. And all of the sudden, it was like I was 16 again. My heart started to pound, I was sweating and my mouth was dry. I hadn't seen him in almost 8 years! I accepted his friend request and instantly started snooping through his photos. No pictures of Jana. Only a photo of him with 2 adorable little boys. And his current city was....SAN DIEGO!!! He lived 2 hours south of me??? Not in Miami? I didn't leave any comments on his page or message him. I just waited. And sure enough, today he sent me a message congratulating me on my success as a writer and telling me I looked fantastic in my photos. I waited a few hours and responded cooly.


ME: Hey Rodrigo-Great to hear from you. I had no idea you were living in San Diego. How's life? How's Jana. Do you have any little ones? Hope all is well.

RODRIGO: I'm doing ok. Actually, I'm in the middle of a divorce. Things didn't work out between me and Jana. No house and no kids together-which is making the separation a little easier. Those are my nephews in some of my photos. I love living in San Diego. I've been here for 3 years now. I'd love to talk to you and catch up sometime. (619) 323-954*

ME: I'm really sorry to hear about your divorce. I wish the best for both you and her and will keep you in my prayers. Your nephews are adorable! I had no idea your sister had kids. It would be nice to catch up with you as well. (310) 987-122*


And now, my phone is ringing. It's a 619 number.....that's San Diego.