I've never been proposed to. And I probably never will. I type this with a smile on my face, not a tear in my eye so don't go feeling all bad for me. But I have been told I'm loved in creative (and not so creative) ways. One of my ex's called me up and told me he had gotten me a ticket to the Flaming Lips Boombox experiment 1 hour before showtime. He came and got me (slight buzz on) and we ran down to Central Square. As we were descending the stairs to the club with dozens of others, he turned and pulled me in close and said "Dani, I fucking love you." I almost burst into tears...and then saw one of the coolest shows ever. Another memorable "I love you" was during a snowstorm. We were outside frolicking around in the snow. Boyfriend calls me over and points to the ground where he had written "I LOVE YOU" in the snow. Eventually the snow melted as did the relationship.
Now to my point. If you are going to propose to someone, here is some advice. It doesn't matter where you do it, how you do it, and what strip mall gumball machine you got the ring from. Here is the key: have an amazing plan for after she says yes, or a pint of bourbon for when she says no. A concert and reserved table/booth equipped with champagne and fun friends is my best idea yet. And for the losers who get turned down, Knob Creek is bourbon of choice.
Go get 'em tiger!
Friday, November 7, 2008
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Remember when...
...I told you I knew somebody who was born with only one kidney? Well his buddy at work was born without sideburns!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Our Favorite Mad Libs
A Speeding Ticket
(To be performed by two sharp people in this room.)
OFFICER: Sir, do you realize how fast you were drinking?
DRIVER: No, how fast was I puking?
OFFICER: You were going fifty tequila worms an hour in a 25 homeless man zone.
DRIVER: I'm sorry. I'm nervous. I'm taking my skank to the hospital. She's about to have a prude.
OFFICER: You also went through a red pedophile and failed to stop at a breast sign. May I see your driver's paddy waggon?
DRIVER: Yes. Oh, my! I left it in my other pair of triptiks. You see, my wife started to have labor faggots, and I wanted to get her to the crack pipe as gushingly as possible.
OFFICER: Your wife? I don't blow your wife.
DRIVER: She's right there in the back 18 wheeler. (Turns.) Oh, my! Would you believe I forgot my pony, too!
A Card From Camp
Dear Folks,
Camp is great! I like all the kittens in my tent. I have become as close as two asses in a pod with Danielle Files, who has a funny personality and is never without a peach cobbler. She tells really slutty stories which make all of us grind out loud. I have to stop writing now. I know I promised a long turnip green, but this morning I washed my shirts and Shauna's thongs and put them out to dry on the clothes San Diego, and it looks like it's getting ready to rain cats and bloody tampons. I better get off my buttcrack and get my dead babies off the Camaro line before I run out of seeping underwear. I promise to write a letter full of sunglasses before my sphincter hits the pillow tonight...or tomorrow...or maybe I'll write Tuesday.
Your loving dildo,
Shauna Fritsch
(To be performed by two sharp people in this room.)
OFFICER: Sir, do you realize how fast you were drinking?
DRIVER: No, how fast was I puking?
OFFICER: You were going fifty tequila worms an hour in a 25 homeless man zone.
DRIVER: I'm sorry. I'm nervous. I'm taking my skank to the hospital. She's about to have a prude.
OFFICER: You also went through a red pedophile and failed to stop at a breast sign. May I see your driver's paddy waggon?
DRIVER: Yes. Oh, my! I left it in my other pair of triptiks. You see, my wife started to have labor faggots, and I wanted to get her to the crack pipe as gushingly as possible.
OFFICER: Your wife? I don't blow your wife.
DRIVER: She's right there in the back 18 wheeler. (Turns.) Oh, my! Would you believe I forgot my pony, too!
A Card From Camp
Dear Folks,
Camp is great! I like all the kittens in my tent. I have become as close as two asses in a pod with Danielle Files, who has a funny personality and is never without a peach cobbler. She tells really slutty stories which make all of us grind out loud. I have to stop writing now. I know I promised a long turnip green, but this morning I washed my shirts and Shauna's thongs and put them out to dry on the clothes San Diego, and it looks like it's getting ready to rain cats and bloody tampons. I better get off my buttcrack and get my dead babies off the Camaro line before I run out of seeping underwear. I promise to write a letter full of sunglasses before my sphincter hits the pillow tonight...or tomorrow...or maybe I'll write Tuesday.
Your loving dildo,
Shauna Fritsch
Friday, September 26, 2008
Boston to San Francisco
The initial plan I had in mind was to write each day about each day of the trip. As you can see, 3 weeks later and that has not happened. And by GOLLY do some of you pester me about it. So here it is. Real short and choppy.
*
*
*
My Opener
I like Mr. Duffy and chunky style peanut butter. Jesse likes candy and gymnastics. Max likes fireworks and firearms. Shauna likes, well, no longer any of us. It couldn't have anything to do with Jesse punching her at various times and at any given moment, or how I kept hinting that this whole trip was for the sole purpose of murdering her and placing her dead bloody body off the side of the road somewhere in Arkansas. Or because we decided to change her name and call her Shayna instead (and sometimes Cheyenne). That I blame on Jameson. The murder plot, however, I blame on her. She inspired me with her novel of choice for the road, “Body Dump”.
Transportation Related
Me and Jesse named our beautiful friendly Toyota Sienna Shevan. Before heading out we all made a wager on what car we would NOT see on the road:
Max – Yellow Ferrari
Shauna – Stretch Hummer
Jesse – 442
Dani – Cement Mixer
I think Jesse may have won this bet.
Music Related
I brought along 350 or so CD’s. Jesse requested Violent Femmes. I told her to go to hell, I wasn't about to sift through 5 books to find it. By the end of the day we decide to play close your eyes and pick a disc at random cuz it was more fun and our music tastes didn't overlap too much (Max–rap, Jesse-ska, Shauna-DMB, Me-everything cool). And whaddya know, I pick Violent Femmes. How fun!
The whoooooole trip, all me and Jesse wanted to hear was Nirvana's In Utero. And I own it. But with all 8 grubby little paws sifting through my books, we couldn't for the lives of us find it. Our very last gasoline fill up Jesse runs into the Mobile Mart to get *shocker* more candy, and there is one lonely CD for sale. Take a guess what it was…
Everything we put on, Shauna thinks is Fleetwood Mac.
We are driving in our beloved Shevan listening to Kings of Leon. But I decide to separate myself from the jerk-offs and listen to my headphones. And I put Kings of Leon on. What a bitch!!
Shit that happened
Dude with one tooth sold us beer and called us a cab. Jason was the taxi driver.
Max got a slice of pizza in Virginia at 'Luigi's' which was next to 'Shenanigans' where we drank all night. It was the worst slice pizza of his life. He was still complaining about it 3 days after the fact.
Misreading the sign of the motel I think we are staying at ‘Hot Fudge Inn’.
By end of trip, you can imagine how your nerves must be with 4 people living in a van. I was in a bitchy mood and sitting behind Jesse. I told her if she didn't move her seat forward I would punch her in the face. She turned around and saw the look in my eyes and thought “oh my god she really is going to punch me in the face” and moved her seat forward like I requested. I feel bad now.
Quotes
He thinks he’s a doctor. Not sure why, but whenever one of us had a medical question or concern his response was very serious “Any doctor will tell you…” - Max
While driving down Route 66 in the pitch dark and talking about our beautiful friend Alice, “What do you mean, she kinda looks black? She could be in the van right now and nobody would know!” - Jesse
We are talking about sex partners and how many we have had, “Yeah, my number is up there. I went through a phase you could say. I went to this football game one time...” - Shauna
We are on a alternate route in…Tennessee? And we see a ‘pony’ on the side of the road. The ‘pony’ was really a donkey. We are snapping photos of the 'pony' when this randy goat comes up. His lipstick starts popping out. And I’m talking a 6 inch shiny lipstick. Every time I try to snap a photo of it, it swiftly slides back in. I get annoyed with this horngoat and yell “GET YOUR DICK OUT, GOAT!!!” (For the inquiring mind, the goat eventually got off. Then licked himself clean. Oh, and we named the goat Rod.)
After beautiful guts are displayed on the windshield, "You never realize how fast 85 mph is until you hit a butterfly." – Dani
We find Nashville’s version of Chris Fahy. He comes up to me and puts his arm around me at last call. "Did you just touch me? You remind me of my dad. Wanna make out?" This leaves him completely speechless and completely leaves me.
"Hey Shauna, right before a girl gets murdered they get raped. Just so you know." – Dani
So Shauna decides to flip the script and over the pant finger Jesse. "If you enjoy this Jesse, I will be so mad at you!" – Shauna
We are on the highway in Arkansas and see a HUGE sign ‘XXX Adult Store’. We pull up, there are no cars, no windows and it looks like a huge warehouse. I have no interest in going in, I have everything I need. I am a little skeptical since there are no cars in sight. I’m stubborn and just want to read my map. Just go in I’ll wait in the car. But that ain't gonna cut it, I get convinced or pretty much dragged in. "ALRIGHT! FINE! JESUS! BUNCH OF JERKS! let-me-just-get-my-wallet-first." – Dani
We are drinking shot after shot of Tequila. We have arrived at drunk and also the first emotional break down of the trip. And it’s Shauna's. She didn't like the murder jokes. She knew nothing about the only boy on the trip. Oh wait, she did know one thing about Max. That he had guns. Eventually after a few minutes of crying, we have her laughing. Shauna you are crying and laughing at the same time! “I’m laughing because it’s funny. I’m crying because of the tequila!”
Shit that made us laugh
Fortune cookie for night one in Harrisonburg "a gathering of friends brings you lots of luck this evening." Not a single one of us got laid that night.
Shady mother fucker sitting in his conversion van in our motel parking lot in Virginia somewhere maybe? Talking on…..A BIG SQUARE CORDLESS TELEPHONE. Max offered up "he’s just a meth head" as an excuse. Cuz any doctor would tell ya.
Me and Shauna decide to shotgun a beer as a nightcap before bed. Brilliant idea. Whatever I couldn't finish I decide to just dump on Shauna’s head. This then brought on fear on Shauna’s behalf that we were going to do something to her towel. So she slept with it in her pants all night.
I am so drunk and so tired, that I decide to take off and run back to our hotel alone. I wish I hadn't because I missed this: They stop curbside to light up a cigarette and while doing so Shauna passes out. In a bush.
After the bush nap they make it back to the room. Shauna decides to revisit the plot of her murder and starts yelling at us again one by one. In a thong. And just like WWE style she decides to throw Jesse across the room, over the bed and into the wall. And then back over the bed and into the nightstand. Jesse the next day was adorning a bruised up chin and somehow rope burns on her neck? Weird.
Hello Vegas! Shauna turns into a pretty dainty girl. Makeup, earrings, little black dress. And she cashes in $40 for 4 rolls of quarters to play the slots. Slots don’t take coin honey. But she manned those machines like a pro. With one leg up and smoking a butt.
We decide to play MadLibs. We get through an entire story before Shauna realizes that we never included her on filling in the blanks.
Stuff we saw
A field in the middle of nowhere titled 'Foamhenge'. It is exactly what you think it is. Life size replica of Stonehenge, but made of foam.
While in Oklahoma at an IHOP we see in the parking lot a pick up truck. Written on the windows "Just Married!" and "MILF"
The ultimate redneck bar. In Amarillo, Texas. Named 'Buckles Western Bar'. We stopped off for 4 shots of Wild Turkey. Which came to $14.
Fireworks. In the desert. Set off by Max Greene Bastard Parts Unknown. Some of them shot up in the air. Some of them shot off AT us. No injuries. But man, does that kid like explosives. I have a new phrase to replace "like a kid in a candy store"…do the math.
Out of Gas (which we never were thanks to Mr. Tim Hoffman!)
Sure there are many more things to be told. But what happens on Route 93, 95, 91, 80, 66, 40, 15, and the Bay Bridge, stays on Route 93, 95, 91, 80, 66, 40, 15, and the Bay Bridge.
*
*
*
My Opener
I like Mr. Duffy and chunky style peanut butter. Jesse likes candy and gymnastics. Max likes fireworks and firearms. Shauna likes, well, no longer any of us. It couldn't have anything to do with Jesse punching her at various times and at any given moment, or how I kept hinting that this whole trip was for the sole purpose of murdering her and placing her dead bloody body off the side of the road somewhere in Arkansas. Or because we decided to change her name and call her Shayna instead (and sometimes Cheyenne). That I blame on Jameson. The murder plot, however, I blame on her. She inspired me with her novel of choice for the road, “Body Dump”.
Transportation Related
Me and Jesse named our beautiful friendly Toyota Sienna Shevan. Before heading out we all made a wager on what car we would NOT see on the road:
Max – Yellow Ferrari
Shauna – Stretch Hummer
Jesse – 442
Dani – Cement Mixer
I think Jesse may have won this bet.
Music Related
I brought along 350 or so CD’s. Jesse requested Violent Femmes. I told her to go to hell, I wasn't about to sift through 5 books to find it. By the end of the day we decide to play close your eyes and pick a disc at random cuz it was more fun and our music tastes didn't overlap too much (Max–rap, Jesse-ska, Shauna-DMB, Me-everything cool). And whaddya know, I pick Violent Femmes. How fun!
The whoooooole trip, all me and Jesse wanted to hear was Nirvana's In Utero. And I own it. But with all 8 grubby little paws sifting through my books, we couldn't for the lives of us find it. Our very last gasoline fill up Jesse runs into the Mobile Mart to get *shocker* more candy, and there is one lonely CD for sale. Take a guess what it was…
Everything we put on, Shauna thinks is Fleetwood Mac.
We are driving in our beloved Shevan listening to Kings of Leon. But I decide to separate myself from the jerk-offs and listen to my headphones. And I put Kings of Leon on. What a bitch!!
Shit that happened
Dude with one tooth sold us beer and called us a cab. Jason was the taxi driver.
Max got a slice of pizza in Virginia at 'Luigi's' which was next to 'Shenanigans' where we drank all night. It was the worst slice pizza of his life. He was still complaining about it 3 days after the fact.
Misreading the sign of the motel I think we are staying at ‘Hot Fudge Inn’.
By end of trip, you can imagine how your nerves must be with 4 people living in a van. I was in a bitchy mood and sitting behind Jesse. I told her if she didn't move her seat forward I would punch her in the face. She turned around and saw the look in my eyes and thought “oh my god she really is going to punch me in the face” and moved her seat forward like I requested. I feel bad now.
Quotes
He thinks he’s a doctor. Not sure why, but whenever one of us had a medical question or concern his response was very serious “Any doctor will tell you…” - Max
While driving down Route 66 in the pitch dark and talking about our beautiful friend Alice, “What do you mean, she kinda looks black? She could be in the van right now and nobody would know!” - Jesse
We are talking about sex partners and how many we have had, “Yeah, my number is up there. I went through a phase you could say. I went to this football game one time...” - Shauna
We are on a alternate route in…Tennessee? And we see a ‘pony’ on the side of the road. The ‘pony’ was really a donkey. We are snapping photos of the 'pony' when this randy goat comes up. His lipstick starts popping out. And I’m talking a 6 inch shiny lipstick. Every time I try to snap a photo of it, it swiftly slides back in. I get annoyed with this horngoat and yell “GET YOUR DICK OUT, GOAT!!!” (For the inquiring mind, the goat eventually got off. Then licked himself clean. Oh, and we named the goat Rod.)
After beautiful guts are displayed on the windshield, "You never realize how fast 85 mph is until you hit a butterfly." – Dani
We find Nashville’s version of Chris Fahy. He comes up to me and puts his arm around me at last call. "Did you just touch me? You remind me of my dad. Wanna make out?" This leaves him completely speechless and completely leaves me.
"Hey Shauna, right before a girl gets murdered they get raped. Just so you know." – Dani
So Shauna decides to flip the script and over the pant finger Jesse. "If you enjoy this Jesse, I will be so mad at you!" – Shauna
We are on the highway in Arkansas and see a HUGE sign ‘XXX Adult Store’. We pull up, there are no cars, no windows and it looks like a huge warehouse. I have no interest in going in, I have everything I need. I am a little skeptical since there are no cars in sight. I’m stubborn and just want to read my map. Just go in I’ll wait in the car. But that ain't gonna cut it, I get convinced or pretty much dragged in. "ALRIGHT! FINE! JESUS! BUNCH OF JERKS! let-me-just-get-my-wallet-first." – Dani
We are drinking shot after shot of Tequila. We have arrived at drunk and also the first emotional break down of the trip. And it’s Shauna's. She didn't like the murder jokes. She knew nothing about the only boy on the trip. Oh wait, she did know one thing about Max. That he had guns. Eventually after a few minutes of crying, we have her laughing. Shauna you are crying and laughing at the same time! “I’m laughing because it’s funny. I’m crying because of the tequila!”
Shit that made us laugh
Fortune cookie for night one in Harrisonburg "a gathering of friends brings you lots of luck this evening." Not a single one of us got laid that night.
Shady mother fucker sitting in his conversion van in our motel parking lot in Virginia somewhere maybe? Talking on…..A BIG SQUARE CORDLESS TELEPHONE. Max offered up "he’s just a meth head" as an excuse. Cuz any doctor would tell ya.
Me and Shauna decide to shotgun a beer as a nightcap before bed. Brilliant idea. Whatever I couldn't finish I decide to just dump on Shauna’s head. This then brought on fear on Shauna’s behalf that we were going to do something to her towel. So she slept with it in her pants all night.
I am so drunk and so tired, that I decide to take off and run back to our hotel alone. I wish I hadn't because I missed this: They stop curbside to light up a cigarette and while doing so Shauna passes out. In a bush.
After the bush nap they make it back to the room. Shauna decides to revisit the plot of her murder and starts yelling at us again one by one. In a thong. And just like WWE style she decides to throw Jesse across the room, over the bed and into the wall. And then back over the bed and into the nightstand. Jesse the next day was adorning a bruised up chin and somehow rope burns on her neck? Weird.
Hello Vegas! Shauna turns into a pretty dainty girl. Makeup, earrings, little black dress. And she cashes in $40 for 4 rolls of quarters to play the slots. Slots don’t take coin honey. But she manned those machines like a pro. With one leg up and smoking a butt.
We decide to play MadLibs. We get through an entire story before Shauna realizes that we never included her on filling in the blanks.
Stuff we saw
A field in the middle of nowhere titled 'Foamhenge'. It is exactly what you think it is. Life size replica of Stonehenge, but made of foam.
While in Oklahoma at an IHOP we see in the parking lot a pick up truck. Written on the windows "Just Married!" and "MILF"
The ultimate redneck bar. In Amarillo, Texas. Named 'Buckles Western Bar'. We stopped off for 4 shots of Wild Turkey. Which came to $14.
Fireworks. In the desert. Set off by Max Greene Bastard Parts Unknown. Some of them shot up in the air. Some of them shot off AT us. No injuries. But man, does that kid like explosives. I have a new phrase to replace "like a kid in a candy store"…do the math.
Out of Gas (which we never were thanks to Mr. Tim Hoffman!)
Sure there are many more things to be told. But what happens on Route 93, 95, 91, 80, 66, 40, 15, and the Bay Bridge, stays on Route 93, 95, 91, 80, 66, 40, 15, and the Bay Bridge.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Fear Not of Fear
As most or all of you know, I'm busy packing, working my last shifts, getting my last shifts covered, sleeping on couches, sleeping with men, crying, panicking...but as soon as that is all done I will be writing more of my life. Soon.
ps. I know a guy who was born with one kidney!!
ps. I know a guy who was born with one kidney!!
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Me vs. Flying Cheese
My very first food fight happened at age 35 and it was while I was working. It wasn't the typical cafeteria style "Let's have a food fight guys! Yeah!". It was a fight of anger that happened to involve food.
I'm setting up the bar taking stools down and I notice a man and woman sitting on the sidewalk next to the driveway. The woman is slumped over in a just-shot-up kinda way, and the man is smoking a butt. I start to realize they very well just might be waiting for me to open and be my first customers, oh joy! I act in a proactive manner and walk by looking at them enough so they see my face and remember me when they attempt to enter bar. Lucky me, they still enter bar. They order a couple burgers, mozzarella stix and try to order 2 beers. I tell him I will serve, but her I will not. Him understands, but her does not like. The food order is put in, (money collected in advance of course, me a smaht cookie) his beer is poured, and words are exchanged between her and I. Not quite sure what the words were, but let's just assume coming from me it was nothing but high quality sass. She starts yelling without really saying anything and I respond with something like "look honey..." and she did not like that.
"You called me honey?! You're a lady, you should start acting like one." - Her
"Act like a lady? A LADY? I'm wearing a fucking skirt and fucking knee socks. You got makeup running down your face, and your fingernails look like you've been digging for potatoes!" - Cute Sweet Me
That's all she needed. Suddenly, as if in slow motion, I see a mozzarella stick come flying at me, marina sauce and all. And like Bruce Lee I karate deflect it back in her direction. More stix come at me, but this woman is too cracked out to hit the target - my pretty little face. Eventually her buddy realizes he is going to have to escort her out before a leap over the bar and put the smack down on this smacked out nutjob. All I hear him mumble to her while he's dragging her is "Come on! I can't get in trouble again!" In a way, I kind of felt bad for this dude. It's hard to be selective about the company you keep when you wake up next to them with a needle hanging out yer arm on city hall lawn. Shit, their burgers are still grilling up in the back. Poor guy, he's probably pretty hungry. So he comes back, apologizes and really just wants his burgers. I bag them up and hand them over and wish him luck. Don't worry kids, I did NOT give him my phone number like I usually do.
Skippety do da day...2:oo pm comes. Adamame walks in the bar, bearing gifts of iced coffee treats as usual, with a very amused look on his face.
"I just saw the most amazing thing. I wanted to take a picture of it. I wanted to take the picture and then have it put on a t-shirt." - Adamame
"What?! What?!" - Adorable Dani
"There is some woman passed out on city hall lawn with her face burried in a cheeseburger!" - Adamame
And there you have it. My food-fight-cherry-popping shift and karma in the form of a face dented meat product.
I'm setting up the bar taking stools down and I notice a man and woman sitting on the sidewalk next to the driveway. The woman is slumped over in a just-shot-up kinda way, and the man is smoking a butt. I start to realize they very well just might be waiting for me to open and be my first customers, oh joy! I act in a proactive manner and walk by looking at them enough so they see my face and remember me when they attempt to enter bar. Lucky me, they still enter bar. They order a couple burgers, mozzarella stix and try to order 2 beers. I tell him I will serve, but her I will not. Him understands, but her does not like. The food order is put in, (money collected in advance of course, me a smaht cookie) his beer is poured, and words are exchanged between her and I. Not quite sure what the words were, but let's just assume coming from me it was nothing but high quality sass. She starts yelling without really saying anything and I respond with something like "look honey..." and she did not like that.
"You called me honey?! You're a lady, you should start acting like one." - Her
"Act like a lady? A LADY? I'm wearing a fucking skirt and fucking knee socks. You got makeup running down your face, and your fingernails look like you've been digging for potatoes!" - Cute Sweet Me
That's all she needed. Suddenly, as if in slow motion, I see a mozzarella stick come flying at me, marina sauce and all. And like Bruce Lee I karate deflect it back in her direction. More stix come at me, but this woman is too cracked out to hit the target - my pretty little face. Eventually her buddy realizes he is going to have to escort her out before a leap over the bar and put the smack down on this smacked out nutjob. All I hear him mumble to her while he's dragging her is "Come on! I can't get in trouble again!" In a way, I kind of felt bad for this dude. It's hard to be selective about the company you keep when you wake up next to them with a needle hanging out yer arm on city hall lawn. Shit, their burgers are still grilling up in the back. Poor guy, he's probably pretty hungry. So he comes back, apologizes and really just wants his burgers. I bag them up and hand them over and wish him luck. Don't worry kids, I did NOT give him my phone number like I usually do.
Skippety do da day...2:oo pm comes. Adamame walks in the bar, bearing gifts of iced coffee treats as usual, with a very amused look on his face.
"I just saw the most amazing thing. I wanted to take a picture of it. I wanted to take the picture and then have it put on a t-shirt." - Adamame
"What?! What?!" - Adorable Dani
"There is some woman passed out on city hall lawn with her face burried in a cheeseburger!" - Adamame
And there you have it. My food-fight-cherry-popping shift and karma in the form of a face dented meat product.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Nurse Kitty Loves Dr. Dog
That's not really what this story is about, but it got your attention I'm sure. And if you are of the Dr. Dog and google searching for stories on yourself, like the vain self-centered bastard you are...well...then I love you even more now. I have a love/hate relationship with self-centered people. I love them because they remind me of myself. I hate them because they should get over themselves and in a hurry, because there are OTHER people in this world that need attention.
Now back to me. I feel old. No, that is a lie. I feel the same age I did when I was 19 and had a fake I.D. saying I was 24. I feel...slow shall we say? I recently found out that an ex-boyfriend, let's call him NDL bought a house. When I met him I was 24 and he was also 24. Until he magically found that rewind-the-time-clock without offering me fare leaving him at age 19. I should have known this when I slept over his parents house and woke up to a Bob Marley poster. He fessed up in the same weekend, knowing that I wouldn't be mad because I was already hooked on him like a junkie on lies. We dated for about 4 months I think? Until I found someone more my age. Sorry, I meant someone that had their own place. Fast forward to this past July when I am down the Poi with Nils (who ironically went to the same school as NDL) and bump into mutual friends. NDL is not only a high school teacher, but he owns a house. For fucks sake, when I met him he was barely OUT of high school and was living at his PARENTS house! I'm a very happy person. Until I see my past flash before me driving an imported S.U.V. loaded with 2.5 children on their way to get immunized and laughing, throwing mortgage payments at me. When the hell am I going to catch up?? Am I supposed to catch up? Will I be happier if I do catch up to all these ex-boyfriends with property and vacations and vehicles and sexless nights with loved ones? Don't say it. I'm not bitter. One must be married and divorced to become bitter. I'm not worried. I'm humored if anything. Maybe I'm even setting a record for all the little boys I've slapped on the ass and pushed out into the real world thinking maybe they would come back to me once I suddenly became unfickle (yes, that is now a word). If only they could all see me now...I've got an amazing cat, a cute nose, dope undiscovered skills, and wear a size 7 shoe which most of their wives would envy. Stick that in your coach bag and smoke it.
Note to all my friends who are married with above said items, such as children and huts and maybe sex-filled nights: If you are reading this, you already know that I love you. I am 100 percent confident the one you end or ended up with is a beautiful person. They picked you, so they must be. Jesus Christ, I sound like I'm writing a wedding toast. Gross. Also, I am willing to engage in a threesome if necessary to save your relationship. Just not you. And you know who you are.
Now back to me. I feel old. No, that is a lie. I feel the same age I did when I was 19 and had a fake I.D. saying I was 24. I feel...slow shall we say? I recently found out that an ex-boyfriend, let's call him NDL bought a house. When I met him I was 24 and he was also 24. Until he magically found that rewind-the-time-clock without offering me fare leaving him at age 19. I should have known this when I slept over his parents house and woke up to a Bob Marley poster. He fessed up in the same weekend, knowing that I wouldn't be mad because I was already hooked on him like a junkie on lies. We dated for about 4 months I think? Until I found someone more my age. Sorry, I meant someone that had their own place. Fast forward to this past July when I am down the Poi with Nils (who ironically went to the same school as NDL) and bump into mutual friends. NDL is not only a high school teacher, but he owns a house. For fucks sake, when I met him he was barely OUT of high school and was living at his PARENTS house! I'm a very happy person. Until I see my past flash before me driving an imported S.U.V. loaded with 2.5 children on their way to get immunized and laughing, throwing mortgage payments at me. When the hell am I going to catch up?? Am I supposed to catch up? Will I be happier if I do catch up to all these ex-boyfriends with property and vacations and vehicles and sexless nights with loved ones? Don't say it. I'm not bitter. One must be married and divorced to become bitter. I'm not worried. I'm humored if anything. Maybe I'm even setting a record for all the little boys I've slapped on the ass and pushed out into the real world thinking maybe they would come back to me once I suddenly became unfickle (yes, that is now a word). If only they could all see me now...I've got an amazing cat, a cute nose, dope undiscovered skills, and wear a size 7 shoe which most of their wives would envy. Stick that in your coach bag and smoke it.
Note to all my friends who are married with above said items, such as children and huts and maybe sex-filled nights: If you are reading this, you already know that I love you. I am 100 percent confident the one you end or ended up with is a beautiful person. They picked you, so they must be. Jesus Christ, I sound like I'm writing a wedding toast. Gross. Also, I am willing to engage in a threesome if necessary to save your relationship. Just not you. And you know who you are.
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