Gail the Tyrant Talbert: Your humpbuddy already sent me in an entire article about Pippa’s release from prison. Start writing the long-distance piece while you wait for the band.
Jane: Fine.Great. I’ll send you something soon.
There’s stillnothing from Dex.
My mind begins inventing scenarios that aren’t very helpful. I Google any current natural disasters occurring in California. Nothing. I’m acting clingy and pathetic. I need to stop thinking the worst and start writing. That will get my mind off things.
I snap a quick picture of my hotel room and post it on all my social media outlets. I caption everything with:
First Day in London
Expensive Hotel Room
Breakfast in bed
Chocolates
Watch porn
Order Dinner for two
Regret eating two dinners
Cry alone
#TravelingSingle #LongDistanceWhat
That’s exactlyhow my day went when I arrived here in London yesterday. I guess when Gail purchased my plane ticket, she never took into consideration the time difference between London and New York. So, I landed at five o’clock in the morning. And Simply Sinister, the only reason I am here, has me rescheduled for an interview in a few days. So, I have plenty of time to try to string some sentences together for Gail about long-distance relationships. What’s a girl to do? Order room-service alcohol and write.
It’severy single girl’s nightmare. You meet a great guy and things are going really well, when suddenly what you think might be your happily ever after turns into something so once upon a time.
By the time we’re thirty (and still loudly single) we’ve got the hot, meaningless-sex part down, but truth be told, we women are more interested in monogamous relationships than random hook-ups, and, despite the high-af divorce rate, most of us girls still want to get married one day. We’re all secretly looking for our happily ever afters. Trust me. By the time I reached my thirty-second birthday, I wondered if I was somehow starring in my own poorly written romantic comedy in my chase for my happily ever after. One of those rom-coms where you meet an asshole who turns into a prince, but that only lasts for a second… Then the inevitable crisis happens—some hilariously mistimed meetings—silly misunderstandings that get dramatically drawn out and take weeks to repair. In my case, because of our careers, Prince Asshole and I ended up falling into a long-distance hole, without a bottom in sight. The extra distance and little to no communication can make a relationship like this seem unachievable, almost inconceivable. Things are bound to get complicated, and you’re guaranteed to feel sad and lonely at times.
So, here’s a few long-distance relationship dating tips I have:
1.
2.
3.
4.
Please. I’m thirty-two and drunk by myself in a hotel room in London.
#LongDistanceSucks #Almost33
* * *
I blinkopen my eyes and peel my face off my laptop’s keyboard. Wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I glance at the clock and groan. It’s three in the morning. The sky outside the hotel window is dark, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find out my keyboard is drool-resistant. But still, jet lag is a whore.
I climb off the bed and bring my computer over to the desk. I’m too afraid to look at what I’ve written. A quick glance around the room tells me I’ve drunk an entire bottle of wine, and at some point, changed into the small tank and shorts I usually wear to bed. My stomach rumbles wildly as I pad my way into the bathroom. I can’t even remember the last time I ate.
The bathroom mirror tells me I’m a hot mess. My hair is a jumble of wavy knots, and mascara rings my eyes like a raccoon’s.
I flip open the hotel booklet and search for room service times. I growl out a curse when I read the kitchen closed at midnight and opens again at six. There’s absolutely no way I will be able to wait to eat. I’m famished, and suddenly, finding a snack vending machine is my new life goal.
I will prevail.
