04.06.09
I Been Bad
Yes, I have. I’m wearing the most beautiful, most expensive, piece of jewelry that I’ve ever touched in my entire life and Saturday I find myself drooling over a Bulgari ad on the New York Times website, which turned into a quick click to read the story on Bulgari’s “Save The Children” line of jewelry, that became an hour long perusing of the Bulgari website. I have an addiction to spending money.
To counteract this addiction, I have signed up to volunteer at a food bank over in dekalb county, a summer program at this big methodist church that me and Jake used to go to, and am on the contact sheet for the same church’s tutoring program starting in the fall. This has been a thought in the making toward action. It culminated in the store the other day when this college student tried to judge me based on how I was dressed and the fact that I was sitting there looking at Nordstrom’s website. She tried to get into it with me over my shallow and materialistic habits and I totally ripped her a new one. I know envy may have played a part in her outburst, but there was a lesson that she needed to learn: Public Behavior. *sigh* I was once very outspoken about my beliefs too, but it is imperative that we all learn the right place, the right time, and the right way to go about promoting our views.
Anyway… Feeling a bit guilty is not the sole reason for me finally having found somewhere where I can help those that have not had the luck that I have. My junior and senior year in college, myself, a few friends (from the many clubs and organizations I participated in), my RA, and my economics professor’s TA (who I may or may not have been fooling around with at the time) met up and started volunteering at multiple churches, food banks, homeless shelters, and even Boy & Girls of America. So, I feel its way past high time I get back into volunteering. My mother runs a clothing drive several times a year, and my father would open up his farm to the public as a summer program for teens who needed a job or even just a place to be during the day, my family has never been one to shy away from sharing what we have.
When I told Scott about it, he pulled me into a hug and said, “Well haven’t you had a busy day?” and grinned. I don’t know how he can be so unfazed about anything and everything. I could tell him that I was growing a purple toe, and he would laugh and ask if I needed help doing my pedicure. We got to talking about it, and he wasn’t surprised at all the work I had done my junior and senior year. In fact, his parents used to work with Habitat For Humanity and even went out to Louisiana to clean up after Katrina. That’s where his brother met his wife.
In this downward-spiraling economy, no help offered will be turned away, and until we get out of this downslide, I will be doing all I can, withing good reason. I don’t want to have a sleep-deprivation-caused breakdown like I did halfway through my senior year.
Happy spring break to all of those that are on vacation this week!
01.25.09
Stone Cold Sober & Chilly
For those who I’ve worried with my hugemongo breakdown, I’m doing better. I am now going to work for small bits of time everyday and can sleep without the crying jag or inebriance. I still find myself staring off into lala land, ignoring people like someone’s gonna come by and drop another life changer on my head. Without the drink, I am now the coldest person in the Southeast. Thank goodness the warm air moved in for a little while to ease the breeze.
So, Scott took me on a shopping spree today. It was an internet spree since it was nasty out, but we got dressed for a public journey and sat at the coffee table eating his wonderful potato soup, which was such a flashback. See Official First Date. I haven’t been shopping in a month. Shocking, I know. Anyway, Scott said that we were celebrating Valentine’s Day early. I asked why, of course. I like my holidays where they are, chronological order and all. He looked a little sad and said that he’ll be in New York on business that entire week.
So, I had a cow. I flipped out since it is impossible for me to sleep without him now. I admit it, I am forever stuck on the big booger. He promised that he would have his phone on him at ALL times, and it was ok if I called and interrupted a meeting, no matter how important and such- even if it was just to hear his voice. I hugged him, and we proceeded to work out my budget for my comeback to the world of the living.
Which I blew the majority of at Victoria’s Secret and on a grand bag from Dooney & Bourke.
The Shoe Addict is back and will be kickin’ her heels as soon as these babies come in. I wish my legs looked like that in effing January! I admit I keep them looking good, but they are some pale sticks, albeit soft ones.
Hello mama!
I mean, how can you not feel better when you’re struttin’ your stuff in these? Admittedly, this makes me look a little shallow, but I get my healing where I can. I got some very pretty, boyfriend-friendly, under garments. I just love vicky’s secret. So comfy but so sexy.
On a sour note, I have yet to turn my phone back on, and my personal email account is probably feeling very lonely. However, I just really don’t feel like talking to any of my family right now. Just like when my dad died, I will heal on my own with my non-biological family up here in Atlanta, where I belong. Halley and Bella had put me under suicide watch… when Scott wasn’t making sure I continued to take breaths, that is. They are the greatest. Edward sent over a cd of songs. A lot of it was country and about cheating or drinking. Got me to laughing at least. Jack’s contributions were to keep Baby Leigh (so Bella could come spend time with Halley and me) and some homemade Cheese Bread (he is quite the baker- when he gets the time).
They are the reason I got out of my funk. Besides the useless threats of doing harm upon my person and harmless jokes to get me to keep up a showering routine, they were there for me. Even Jesse showed up with a bottle of wine and a message from Ray. *sigh* I love redneck Ray. I figured I had way too much to live for to dwell on dead people for too long. I guess, eventually, my curiousity will get the better of me, and I’ll go searching for that unknown family, but until then, I’m enjoying the one I don’t share DNA with… it seems to work best that way.
I am truly blessed, something I guess I don’t say enough.
01.16.09
Who Am I?
Dazed
Dumbstruck
Dangerously Depressed
It is official… I have lost all faith in humanity. We lie to, cheat on, hurt, and steal from each other. Lies are the scars on the soul. I knew I was different; had this feeling that all was not as it should be. I see my mother in a new light; I love her and feel disappointed in her all in the same breath. I am the product of a lie. I feel as if I could sit in a shower hours and still come out with dirt upon me, for it is not a physical uncleanliness. My father’s indiscretions cannot be scoured from my soul just as I cannot change what DNA courses through my veins.
My father cheated on my mother. Not only was he married before her, divorced after a mere year with this unnamed woman, but he had an affair. This relationship almost destroyed their marriage, for my dad had intended to leave my mom and older siblings for this other woman. Some hippy folk singer with a passion for appaloosas. This other woman died, and I am her child.
The veil has been lifted, and I am furious without it. I am speechless. I haven’t been to work in a week. Scott rocks me to sleep every night, the dear. If my father weren’t dead, I fear what I may have done to him. My mind cannot focus on anything other than the thought of who I am- or rather who I’m not… anymore. I’m not Daddy’s Little Girl- or I am and that’s why mama and I consistently bumped heads… the thought of the arguments my mama and I had play constantly through my head. I cannot seem to cease the self-inflicted torture… imagining every unsaid thing during our famous fights.
How could I possibly marry now?! How could I possibly not drive a man crazy with my ingrained paranoia and fear?!
Shit
I am so angry that I am just numb
I wanna stand in the street and scream at people. Scream at them for being so cruel. This wars with my need to scream at my mama for taking him back, taking my infant self into her life. And my urge to hug her forever and thank her for loving me when she didn’t have to.
I am a broken person, caught in an internal version of all Hell let lose.
Nobody ever tells me anything… until it’s too late.
12.31.08
Top 5 of 2008
Top 5 WTF! books that I read in 2008:
- 5.) Star by Pamela Anderson. For real! A book about her but with a different name. Not recommended for anybody really, but especially not for those with the maturaity level below about 20.
- 4.) Running With Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. Also watched the movie. It was… weird, of course, but the movie has quite a few moments of hilarity and aww!ness.
- 3.) Atonement by Ian McEwan. Loved the book and the movie. Yummy James MacAvoy!! The twist made it! Made me cry, but well worth the tears.
- 2.) Mr. Darcy Takes A Wife by Linda Berdoll. I read this on whim because a loyal customer referred me to it when she noticed my well-worn copy of Pride And Prejudice. Woah, Mama! It made me laugh, blush, and quite speechless. A bit too far into romance novels for my taste, but a good read as it may have incited some similar goings-on with me and my beloved. Whew!
- and- *dun dun dun* 1.) The Twilight Series. I know it’s more than one book, but it would have conquered my list if I had listed them seperately! I mean seriously, People! WTF!! I got them for my niece, and she was all, “Enh… I read it when it first came out.” and was not into the hype like so many other girls her age. High school Musical is one thing (and don’t get me started on it), but vampires… in high school… *sigh* I am one of the biggest vamp fans if you were to ask me about authors such as Charlaine Harris, Laurell K. Hamilton, and other such other great writers, but not when it comes to “young” vampires. *steps down from soapbox* I shutup now.
Ladeedah. I’m in Savannah again for New Year’s. However, I am not happy, nor will I be partaking in any festivities. I found out today that my father had been married once already when he and my mother got together. The secrets, they shall be revealed to me!!!
12.27.08
It’s Christmas (Part 1)
As I sit here listening to my Ipod (set to shuffle), I get to relax for the first time in 2 weeks. The Alabamians have ended their conquering of my apartment, heading home this morning after being in Atlanta since Christmas Eve. Scott never looked as happy as when he was sitting at our kitchen table surrounded by his loud relatives. It was only a few days, but it felt like the Inquisition! His mother constantly made not-so-subtle remarks about my naked ring finger, and his brother hit on me… literally, we wrestled in the living room over the aspects of some novel. I won, of course. 
Skinny Me was there. EEK! It was disastorous at first. I should’ve been wearing a black and white shirt I refereed so many arguments, but I don’t look good in stripes. lol
So, Christmas this year was a very toned event for me, gift-wise. I got Skippy this black tie with red reindeer on it- very sophisticated looking, a new pair of brown shoes from Bass, (He’s hard to buy for- Bigfoot) and a couple of new shirts and stuff. I can’t buy him other stuff because he’s got everything he wants, and buying him things like a neck massager or whatever would just be lame.
He got me a red cashmere sweater to replace the one I can’t find, a knock-off Gucci bag (*inward scream* It looks so real and is soooo pretty) some books by Harmon Leon (Google him- he is hilarious), and a pair of dangly diamond earrings and matching necklace. It makes me feel bad that he got me more than I got him, but I got over it real quick like.
We went down to Savannah last weekend for my mother’s annual Christmas party. I got drunk off my face and had loads of fun- I guess… teehee. All I remember is waking up next to Scott in my Birthday suit… in my old bedroom. Awkwardest breakfast EVER. When I asked Scott if I did anything embarassing, he only shrugged and said, “Not really. Only if you count falling on your ass in the front yard, almost flashing the entire neighborhood.”
Note to self: Never go to Savannah again and never wear short dresses again. But it was this cute little red, satin number that I wore with some t-straps.
Next post I will tell you about my *sigh* 30th Birthday… I”M OLD!!! When did this happen and how!!
09.07.08
Like Putting A Man On the Moon
I’m sure NASA had less trouble out of Armstrong than I’ve had with Scott. We’ve been moving him into my apartment over the past two weeks, and well… he’s an asshole under pressure. He goes postal over some things and I just lean against the wall and let the temper tantrum fizzle out. Our roles have reversed somehow. It might be that since I’ve been exercising in the evenings again, I’ve become more mellowed out while he’s always wired about something. He’s a lot more spontaneous now. Just to give you a tiny, non-described, example, last week he picked me up for lunch and we went home (wink wink). I mean… OH MY GOD!!! It was crazy and made me feel like I was skipping school to make out behind the gym!
Anyway, his apartment is almost empty, and most of the garbage in the dumpster behind the apartment building is ours. He lived there 6 months maybe and accumulated more junk and stuff than I did in 4 years of college. I’m too exhausted to go running, but I must show discipline and go anyways.
I really hate that with all the stuff going on that I can’t remember to come on here ‘cuz I miss it every time I think about it, but then somebody calls me out of my office, or Scott finds a box of stuff under the couch (?) and I have to get off the computer. Scott even complains that I don’t reply to his IMs, and I’m like, “What?! I barely have time for voicemail, where do you find the time for IMs?”
On a darker note, I had a vist from Halley’s brother-in-law. My hands got cold and I swear I heard that evil witch cackle when he walked into the store. “Can we talk?” He asked sternly; I suppressed a shudder and nodded.
“Father Brother” as Halley tends to call him spent 30 frickin’ minutes lecturing me on the life choices I was making… until Jesse saved me with some hooha about a problem with an order. He made like he was going to keep going. I clenched my fist to keep from punching him in his G.D. condesceding, judgemental face and said, “Look, I know your married and extremely religious, but the day I take YOUR inexperienced advice is the day the Pope gets married and Clinton gets divorced.” The guy is almost 5 years younger than me!!
He shook his head and left, murmuring a prayer in Latin; he also might’ve called me a bitch, but I won’t go there. I didn’t tell Scott, and I really don’t plan to. I told Halley about it, and when she finished laughing, she promised to yell at Edward about it, who in turn who put the ever-lovin’ beatin’ on his little brother.
The male species in general, is flawed. I mean they judge, they jump to conclusions, and they tend to be hippocritical in the worst of times. However, they do have their uses, which Skippy has been making especially known…..
Oh lord, he just found something in the dryer that I really didn’t want him to find until his birthday… and he’s insisting I “shut the damn computer off” and show him a “VERY Happy Birthday.” What a horn dog!! LOL
07.09.08
The Will Of Man
If I ever EVER have children, they get to fight over my possessions when I die. That’s a big if anyway, but they’ll get to experience what I’m going through now. I’ve driven down to Savannah 4 or 5 times in the past week to go help my family settle my father’s estate and belongings. Let me tell you, getting the mementos that you want from a family without a will to go by is as difficult as fitting a square peg into a round hole. I’m the square peg of the family! My mom and dad owned quite a bit of land out in the country where they raised, bred, and sold horses. Well, that’s what my dad did. My mom worked elsewhere and spent his money.
I have a horse there by the name of Bean, he’s a pinto (get it lol). Well, I grew up on this horse, was in the high school rodeo association with Bean, and have a bum knee because of this horse. I was barrel racing on him when he slipped and rolled over on my left leg. My knee and down was torn to hell and back, and I was laid up in the bed for a couple of weeks and got to go to school in a wheelchair and then with crutches. It still gives me trouble from time to time, and I’ll probably be as stiff as an old lady’s teased hairdo when I get old, but those years I spent on a horse were gold. Of course, after my accident Daddy wouldn’t let me go near competitive riding, and when I rode for fun somebody had to be with me.
Anyway, back to his stuff. Bean is in my dad’s name, and as his wife, my mom gets everything. My mom is a pretty cool lady for a small-town gal, but she once mentioned selling “Green Acres” as my dad jokingly called it 
I miss his corny jokes. I liked to have stroked out, but she heard the strangled growl/choking sound I made and changed the subject. After all was said and done, during which time I made myself not seriously injure my two older siblings, I was able to drive away with my dad’s gun collection (and there’s a damn lot of them), all of his books (there weren’t a lot of them-mostly old cookbooks and out-dated encyclopedias), a pocketknife, and the keys to his 1974 yellow Mustang. It stays in a storage building in Savannah until I can get it finished enough to be able to drive it up to Atlanta, but I don’t have anywhere to put an classic car. I guess Scott could drive it to work since it gets better gas mileage than his truck by far. That’s something I want to take a picture of: my big bear Skippy behind the wheel of that car.
That’s another reason I couldn’t argue for more of my dad’s stuff; I don’t have anywhere to put it. I could’ve talked my mom into selling me “Green Acres” cheap, and I could get a loan to build me a little house out there, but I’m settled in my city ways. I can’t go back to country-bumpkin-ville. If she sells it, I will move all my shit to Savannah and make it my life’s mission to make her regret it. I can understand moving on with her life and all, but she cannot sell my dad’s life’s work! He came out of a bad childhood into a very successful adulthood, and I wil not see that sold away!
On a lighter note, Scott’s been quietly gleeful about something, but he won’t tell me what it it. I told him that he better not make me use my “womanly wiles” on him, and he pulled the Home Alone face (remember Macauley caulkin before the drugs… aww right? lol) and wiggled his butt at me as he walked away. Do all men secretly have feminine streaks in them, or did I just rub off too badly on my big manly man and make him into a womanly man :O lol
Things should calm down and go back to normal now that I don’t have to deal with family bullcrappola anymore. Off to order in new stock! I can just smell that new book smell now!!!
Who needs a man’s man when you can have a woman’s man? rrwwwaaarrr….
07.02.08
Rediscovering The Meaning Of Family
and it hasn’t changed…
I will never be able to look at my touristy hometown the same ever again. I won’t ever drive by a cemetary with that cool displaced sympathy, or see a funeral procession and get angry about the traffic it caused. Flower arrangements make me go quiet, and churches put a lump in my throat. And, I won’t be eating chicken ever again.
My father passed away early Saturday morning, and I swear if I hear one more estranged family or friend say “I’m so sorry for your loss” I think I may scream. An unspoken truce was given between me and me two sisters as soon as I arrived at the hospital Friday evening, still wearing the clothes I left Greece in.
I had no clothes, so with the wonderful Scott’s help and a camera phone, he brought me several outfits that fit the part of youngest daughter that I had to play… even though (and I don’t mean to brag *brushes fingernails against shoulder*) my clothes were of better quality. I felt like such an outsider; One who was standing there smiling at strangers and people I hadn’t seen in forever exclaiming, “You’re so tall!” “I haven’t seen you since you were This tall” and My VERY Favorite “glad to see you grew out of that awkward phase and into your lady parts!” I had to force a smile and remind myself I was in a church in order to not pull some hair or cuss like a sailor. I have very little patience for people who don’t talk to you or visit until there’s a marriage, a birth, or a death.
piece of advice: if you’re taking food to a mourning family or friend… don’t take chicken of any kind. Take entres or dessert- alcohol would’ve been nice too
Like I told Scott when we were leaving the gravesite to go back to my sister’s house for lunch, I miss him yeah, but he had always had problems, and it’s been so long since I’ve seen him that it is not this huge tragedy to me. If he had been healthy and happy and then was killed in some kind of accident then I would probably be devastated.
I think that’s why I stayed up North after I finished college to start my business. I cried a few times for a short minute, but nothing like the other family members. If they think I’m cold and don’t care then they can confront me about it because I’ve been in the mood to argue with my sisters for months now.
But that story is for an entire post unto itself. We all act like we’re teenagers again and fight like cats and dogs if we’re together for more than a few hours. That’s why the unspoken truce was needed.
I’m back home finally though, and it’s been raining. I love rain when I’m in a bad mood. It’s like Mother Nature is sympathizing with me and plans to make everyone as miserable as I am. I’m supposed to go back to work tomorrow since Jesse has left a couple of frantic messages on my phone and email in the past few hours.
I just don’t have the energy or the feeling to go order stock, pay everybody, and get back into my routine of work and worry. Scott needs to get a new job, so I can sell the store and live off his money. Did you know he has a trust fund from his grandmother that he puts in a savings account rather than live off it?! I sure didn’t! Until he told me where he got some of the money for our vacation that is. Looks like I caught me a rich one anyway lol
I’m off to lay in the bed and stare at my tan, which feels like ages ago. How I wish to be back on that boat again, happy, care-free, and with my lovey.
Have you seen my land-legs, cause I haven’t found them yet and have been stumbling all over the place?!
06.03.08
Planes, Manes, and Automobiles
Skinny Me is leaving in a couple of days. She’s taking a late-night flight back to Kentucky, and I’m torn. I didn’t realize how much I miss my girls until I had someone to talk to everyday again. As soon as Skinny Me is gone, I will be calling a meeting of the Three Crazy Chicas
On the other hand, Skinny Me has brought that long-forgotten and never-welcome drama back into my life that only the young and inexperienced can create. Yesterday, I caught her mooning over a picture of Awkward on her phone. I commanded her to call him, text him, email him, send him a frickin’ carrier pigeon, ANYTHING! She looked at me like I had told her to recreate the Holocaust.
Eau de OMG turned out to be not enough of a distraction for her (Thank God- he wore enough cologne to drown a fish) and she went back into a depression. She stayed in bed for a day and when I came home Saturday she wasn’t there. She sauntered in while Scott and I were “watching” some movie that he had rented. teehee. unhum. I gaped at her for a second, totally forgetting my shirtless significant other laying on the couch next to me. Skinny me now has a short, golden blonde bob that makes her look very chic fabulous. She did a twirl, smiled, and went back to Scott’s apartment. Scott just looked at me with that oh so sexy curious look on his face, and I promptly forgot Ms. Blonde Ambition. I’m a sucker for him; coherent thoughts and worries around him is like putting a flak jacket on after being shot- pointless. I’m going off of on a tangent from which I would not soon return. Sooo…. she can drastically change her hair, but she won’t call a guy she’s known for years now?
Although Awkward is handsome in a (how can I put this politely?) geek who really got in shape kind of way- he’s even tan and has some muscular arms. He had glasses (and got contacts from what Skinny Me said) and looks like he spends more time on the computer than with real people.
Kill me now. I finally had to tell her that if she wasn’t going to step up to the plate and try to do anything about her situation that she couldn’t come crying to me anymore. I know that’s a harsh thing to say to one’s possible future in-law (BIG MAYBE!), but Skinny Me needs tough love. Scott lets her get away with stuff because of whats she has been through, but you know what? I wasn’t around for that, so I’m going to treat her like any other friend with a whining problem.
On top of that, my allergies seem to be making up for the few months that I was free while others suffered. I sleep a lot during the day now (usually at my desk in the store. lol) and stay up into the wee hours of the night on the computer or reading because my throat is too dry and my head is too stopped up to sleep.
Skippy is happily oblivious to all of this. He enjoys being “with his two favorite girls” as he put it. Skinny Me asked me not to say anything to Scott because he would “take the first flight to Kentucky and kill him slowly and painfully.” all her words and exaggerated. Scott may look like a weight-lifting, head-bashing thug, but he’s a total dork too. Who else finishes editing a two-page spread at 2 in the morning and then plays Halo for two hours because he needed to “unwind” and “detox.” *sigh* I can’t say anything because I watched with delight and then fought for the controller when I wanted to play GTA 4.
btw, I sold my car! That money is so going towards a summer vacation- just me, Scott, and the sun shining out across the water Yummy. Besides, I realized the parking bill wasn’t worth it for something I never drove. I’m thinking about getting a motorcycle
Mondays suck. How was your weekend?
05.28.08
You Don’t Need A Reason To Celebrate!
My blog hit 2000!!! Wahoo! I pushed Skinny Me out of the bed and into the shower, shouting at her through the bathroom door to dress to impress becuase we were celebrating.
“Celebrating what, Picante?” Scott asked from the hall, where he had been taking out the trash.
I back-peddled quickly, not wanting to blow my secret identity out of the water. I like my freedom to say what I want. “We’re celebrating [Skinny Me] being here and all of us being successful, healthy and thriving!” I smacked his butt. “Go get sexy, bub.”
He pulled me back, coming This close to dislocating my shoulder because I was a millisecond into a dash/skip/dance something. “I already am sexy, and I would rather stay home and prove it to you.”
Que jelly legs and some hallway making out and we were off to get dressed for the night life. It’s been so nice at night lately (after the apocalyptic rain stopped) that I decided to wear a pair of short black shorts (made of suit fabric), a very cute red satin blouse that looked something like this:
Once out and about, I stuck to Scott’s side like a burr, giving off the distinct signal of “Back off Bitches! I bite!” like it was a neon side above my head. Scott seemed to be enjoying every minute of my non-verbal war with the single women of Atlanta as a whole. “This was a good idea,” He murmured in my ear, doing his own little non-verbal attack by whispering in my ear and making it look like something else entirely as a richly-dressed guy with graying hair and great smelling cologne was about to walk up.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to compete with these girls to get you to myself. It would not have been pretty in the end.” Skinny Me had disappeared by the bar, but I could tell by the laughing circle of young men that she was over there having a good time. “I guess [skinny me] gets over her depression pretty quickly.”
He shook his head, making his new idea -a sexy but scruffy goatee- brush against my neck. Good thing I was already leaning on him because my legs gave up on the pretense of being self-controlled. “It’s all an act so that she doesn’t ruin the night. She’s been on antidepressants since she was 17. Our parents kicked her out at 18 because she went off her meds and disappeared for a week, so I kind of became her only family.” He led me to a quiet-ish corner. “I went to her graduation, drove to Kentucky with her when she got into a college there, send her some money periodically, and help make a tuition payment every now and then when she gets bogged down. She works two regular jobs plus is a teacher’s aide/tutor when needed.” He looked into my eyes. “I’ve been keeping her balanced by flying her down here a couple of times a year. Plus, I know her psychologist very well by now.”
I stared over at the thinning circle, watching Skinny Me sip her Corona. I snuggled closer to Scott. “So, you must be the only normal one in your family, huh?”
He laughed. “Who says I’m normal? I’m a editor for a women’s magazine, living in 2 apartments at the same time, and am entirely addicted to sex.” I hit his arm. “Just kidding! Better worded, I’m crazy about you.”
We kissed and just stood there for a while, watching the hubbub around us.
“I think we’re a little to old- I mean mature- for these kind of clubs,” I said, laughing, a moment later. “Don’t you think we should be at one of those small, family-feeling pubs or privately-owned bars.”
“I agree, Picante. We are the old married couple sitting in the corner booth arguing over who will drive home and how crappy the Bulldogs are playing.” This earned him another hit on the arm.
We spent the rest of the evening dancing and making out in our little corner, only coming out for air and more drinks. To think I had one of the best nights of my life, and it didn’t involve utterly destroying my liver, talking to perfect strangers, or making a idiot of myself in the middle of the dancefloor. Maturity-ville, population: two… for now.
