Dear Ex-Boyfriend(s),
With Valentine's Day looming before me - and trust me it's looming - it really should come as no surprise that you've all been in my thoughts these past few days much like a bad eighties song you can't stop yourself from singing. And it seems to me, especially when considering my dreams as of late, that each one of you has left an indelible impression on me, much like the way water wears down a rock over time. And so, with a great need to cleanse my soul and seek some other form of clarity not disguised as a disgruntled mermaid, I've decided that there's no time like the present to begin the purging. Consider yourselves warned. Further reading by former boyfriends may prove hazardous to your ego(s).
It all started in kindergarten when Jamie R. decided he liked Jill S. much better than he liked me. In a long string of men bearing the XY equational chromosome, he was the very first boy who ever made me feel invisible, despite my desperate attempts to play the farmer's wife at recess time and not my usual role of the cheese standing alone.
Even at a young age, I learned the horrible truth. Boys did prefer blondes over brunettes. And so I swore off boys for two years, resisting the temptation to fall in love again until third grade when my desk was directly opposite that of Jeff C.'s. And Jeff C. was my kind of boy, with an Italian last name to match his dark, handsome looks and fine feathered hair. He spoke quietly, and seemed somewhat shy. But in reality, he hid a horrible secret.
Head lice.
And somehow, after he came back to school with a head of hair shaved down to its last half inch, the love my heart had harbored for so long vanished like a ship in the night, never to be seen or heard from again. It was, in one word, depressing.
Needing a year to recover and fumigate the image of head lice from my mind, it wasn't until 5th grade that I gave the thought of boys much thought again. This time Bobby L. was the boy of my dreams and once again, his desk was directly beside mine. Back then I was working off the theory that the desk to Stacey ratio usually equated out to be true love.
Bobby L. however took my heart, ripped it to shreds and then told everyone about it. And the cute Pink Panther card I had purchased just for him for Valentine's Day would be my very first, though certainly not my last, gut checking reality that February's made up holiday was guaranteed to disappoint as much as it could make you happy.
Proving to be a bit smarter than your average bear, all thoughts of boys were put promptly out of mind until 7th grade. And despite sporting a full set of silver railroad tracks disguised as braces to make my teeth straight, I was intent on gaining that one crucial thing every newly turned teenager girl dreams about. Her first kiss.
Unfortunately I can't seem to recall the individual responsible for giving me my very first kiss. An unmemorable memorable moment to be sure. It could have been the night I went steady with Heath L. (and was the envy of at least 3 of my friends) for all of 3 hours at our school's roller skating dance. And how sweet a dance it was, for I will always remember that during those wonderful 3 hours our song was "Love Bites" by Def Leopard. A more fitting song, I couldn't have chosen myself if the DJ hadn't played it almost the entire night repeatedly. One sad week later, Heath and I had parted ways and to this day, I still cannot listen to that song without getting an enormous lump in my throat.
For the rest of my middle school/early high school years, I went for crushes rather than actual boyfriends. Loving from a distance was while not as enjoyable much safer to my tender heart and fragile ego. This however did not stop me from making the occasional ass of myself as I attempted to get the attention of Chad F, John P, Scott B, Kevin D and various other boys of no concern.
Then came Tom G. - my first, honest to God boyfriend not counting Kevin C. who during our break up conversation on the phone told me and quite emphatically to "Blow him." (My reply, "Been there, done that." And wow, I hope my Mom passes this entry by.) Needless to say, we'll count Tom as the number one boyfriend even though he turned out to be an absolute pansy, necessitating that I meet him in the parking lot after school to return his class ring and dump his ass right there on the asphalt.
Fast forward to college and my not so secret crush on Bill A. and the reason why I started questioning my taste in men. Bookish boys are handsome by far, but boys with noses that never leave their books should be left behind. Take that as a bit of Stacey wisdom. Anyhoo, college took me to a whole new level. (Note: I am not even going to mention Heath F. from high school as he is quite unmentionable in more ways then one, so don't even go there Brenda.)
In college, I really took to living in a coed dorm like a fish takes to water. I was like, "Hello." And trust me when I tell you, I was slowly attempting to break out of my mold and into the wild child I wanted to become. Hence 3 in the morning trips up to Daryn S's room on the third floor just to say hello, agreeing to the bad ideas of Matt K, getting a little extra help with my math homework from Eric G., flirting shamelessly with Dave M. AKA "Lettuce" as I drunkenly told him to the tune of the Cranberries Linger that I was madly, hopelessly and completely in lust with him, until I finally set my sights on Neville C.
Ahhh ... How fondly I look back on the night when he stole my doorsitter book, allowing me no other choice but to follow him back to his own down and spend the night. It was all good, well until the next morning when I had to sneak out of his all male floor dorm and back to my own without getting caught. Thanks to Dave (can't remember your last name, but you were in my EN101 class) with the big mouth, who not only announced my presence in the lobby but also felt the need for a repeat performance that morning in the completely packed with people cafeteria. (Jackass!)
Neville and I didn't exactly work out, and in a convoluted story way too long to tell, I will leave it at that for tonight. Little did I know however, the whole scenario that set itself into motion would lead me into the arms of he who shall be forever known as Moron.
Moron and I started out as friends, and for all intents and purposes somehow managed to end up together in a bizarre twist of fate. And what a twist of fate it was. One positive pregnancy test later, an engagement ring and an "Oh shit! What are we going to do now?"
we we're moving in together and planning for our future.
But despite our best attempts to see that future in together, Moron decided that the ring he placed on my finger would be much better on the hand of someone else. Four months after our daughter was born, the cheating slimeball moved out of our house to shack up with his girlfriend who he later made his wife, leaving me with a ring that held no promise and a baby girl to raise alone.
Still it was this final heartbreak that finally proved to me what I had believed all along about men. The simple truth of the matter - which had been proved time and time again by all the male role models in my life - was that when the going gets tough, the tough take off running, never to be seen or heard from again.
I know, I know ... Some of you out there are squirming in your chairs, searching for the comment button to tell me this isn't true. And believe me when I tell you, that I'm ever so slowly learning that. So keep the "Stacey, you can't possibly believe that," comments to a minimum. (I'm working on becoming less jaded, but as you all know these things take time.)
Anyhoo, Moron was the final straw. I packed up my heartache, my house, my daughter and my life and decided a new direction was in order, one that didn't include men, And I kept to that promise for a good many years before I met Mike.
Mike made me want to be everything that I was not. To me, he was perfect in every way. Smart, funny, blessed with a wonderfully sarcastic wit, kind and sincere, he was and is the kind of man I had always dreamed about. However things with us were based on a series of half truths and outright if he doesn't ask, I won't tells. Still young and quite seriously naive, I learned the hard way that sometimes the relationships you really want to make a go of, are the ones you've screwed up right from the beginning. And sometimes you ruin a great friendship along the way.
Back in the I'm never speaking to another man as long as I live mode, I easily shunned every male I came in contact with, adopting an attitude that said, even when I was as silent as a stone, that I was the sort of girl who just didn't have time to allow any man into my life.
And I was doing just great on that too, despite small distractions known as Chuck, Mark, Brian, and I don't even know who else, all of whom helped make my dysfunction's all that easier to deal with. I'd say thanks, but I wouldn't mean it. So why bother?
So I did the only thing I could do, raised my daughter, worked hard at my job and made the very best life for us that I could. Until that fateful day when I met Sean and saw, even if it was only for a moment, what appeared to be a bright light in the sky.
That bright light however went from high at a 100 watts down to barely glowing all in a matter of 5 months. Never in my life have I ever met a man so intent on making me miserable, that I didn't even want to be around myself while I was dating him. Check it out people, it's all documented in the archives. Just read January 2004 to May of 2004, and the evidence will all be appallingly clear.
So what exactly have I learned from all of this? (Not including that this post is taking me forever to complete ...)
Well, I suppose I've learned that some things are meant to be and some aren't. Some guys treat you like a doormat because you allow them to. Some men aren't the kind of men you'd want to spend the rest of your life with. And some men, teach you lessons you really need to learn. But most of all, I've learned that throughout all the ups and downs of love, I remain as always, me. And as long as I've got myself in my own corner, fuckwits beware.
(Sorry, had to get the word fuckwit into this post somehow, as I really didn't rip anyone's egos to threads. Not that I wasn't tempted. I'm just trying to use my gift for good and not for harm.)
Searching for Sigmund
Very strange dreams last night involving swimming in a salt water stream and people dressed up in assorted fish-life costumes performing a synchronized swimming water show where the star mermaid was pissed because she wasn't getting enough face time ...
And there was more - such as a great white costume floating about all menacing like, as we trooped around playing star detectives for what purpose I haven't a clue, and the fact that the really hot guy in my dream was so much of an asshole that punching him in the face seemed to be a better option than letting him hang on to those good boy looks.
As silly as all this sounds, I didn't watch a speck of the Discovery channel last night to induce such oddities in my mind. This possibly more scary than I can even begin to imagine, suggesting that all of this just may be hanging around in my subconscious. Uh oh.
If there are any dream interpreters out there, feel free to dazzle me with your brilliance and go a little Freud on me.
And there was more - such as a great white costume floating about all menacing like, as we trooped around playing star detectives for what purpose I haven't a clue, and the fact that the really hot guy in my dream was so much of an asshole that punching him in the face seemed to be a better option than letting him hang on to those good boy looks.
As silly as all this sounds, I didn't watch a speck of the Discovery channel last night to induce such oddities in my mind. This possibly more scary than I can even begin to imagine, suggesting that all of this just may be hanging around in my subconscious. Uh oh.
If there are any dream interpreters out there, feel free to dazzle me with your brilliance and go a little Freud on me.
Growing Pains
I feel quite like a little old lady shrinking into her own shoes as I've wandered around the house today. And this is one of those moments where I often remark on my own stupidity of attempting to do too much on my own without asking for help, as if help were an evil word.
Today's evil word however is back pain. As in I haven't slept right in days, I'm all out of tylenol to make it feel better and my hot water tank has finally told me to take a hike after one too many hot showers. Or as I'm more apt to put it, "Screw you Stacey. This ain't no five star hotel you're running here."
So forgive my lack of blog for the past two days and this even shorter post tonight. I've no choice but to go door to door until someone agrees to walk all over me.
(On second thought, maybe I'll just call an old boyfriend and see if he's free for an instant replay.)
Today's evil word however is back pain. As in I haven't slept right in days, I'm all out of tylenol to make it feel better and my hot water tank has finally told me to take a hike after one too many hot showers. Or as I'm more apt to put it, "Screw you Stacey. This ain't no five star hotel you're running here."
So forgive my lack of blog for the past two days and this even shorter post tonight. I've no choice but to go door to door until someone agrees to walk all over me.
(On second thought, maybe I'll just call an old boyfriend and see if he's free for an instant replay.)
Honesty is the Best Policy
Sometimes you need to be reminded of all the stupid things you've done to better appreciate how far it is you've come. Tonight's list is one I'm sure my best friend Brenda will be quite familiar with. She was after all present for 98.9% of it.
1. Crushing smarties in Mrs. Adams English class in order to snort them. (FYI: Burned horribly.)
2. Riding on the top of the hood of LB's car. (Holding on to what I don't know.)
3. Patio Motel Room 3. (Incredibly stupid!)
4. Getting in school suspension because the ISS teacher had a nice ass. (Although he did write in MY yearbook that he enjoyed having me - correction - my presence in the ISS room.)
5. Adnerb and Yecats. And really, you can't name a pair of shoes after yourself, it's just wrong.
6. Skipping school with Rob and Robin to watch Brahm Stoker's Dracula.
7. Giving blood to go home early from school without permission.
8. Sass mouthing the vice principal, the day we forged notes to leave early.
9. Forging another note saying I had missed school due to a death in the family, not mentioning that it was my Dad's dog, and subsequently earning ISS (once) again.
10. Borrowing my Mom's car to go joyriding (without a license) and getting caught because I changed the radio station and put too much gas back into the tank.
11. The garage incident. (Ooops, my bad.)
12. Our entire senior year of gym class and the excuse that we could just stand there doing nothing because we were seniors ...
13. Failing my Math regents with a 32. (Attending summer school and earning an 86.)
14. The night I stole your shoe and you almost fell into a pond on private property.
15. Sneaking Mike S. into the house on prom night.
16. Making asses of ourselves on prom night, even though we didn't actually go. (No jeans allowed, the bastards!)
17. Playing on railroad tracks.
18. That one thing I cannot mention for legal repercussions but that involved a lot of red snow cone flavoring and oyster crackers.
19. Flushing your favorite sweatshirt down the toilet in college.
20. Swimming in the creek on an incredibly cold night because Rob dared me to.
21. The college video. (Which speaks for itself.)
22. Any of the guys we hung out with that we shouldn't have.
23. Not stopping you sooner from making out with the bouncer at that one bar before everyone could start chanting your name.
24. Skipping my American Government class to attend the same badminton class as Brenda because I liked a guy named Karlton who informed me that he was from another planet.
25. The accident with Dave aka "Lettuce" (we met over the salad bar) in the Price Chopper parking lot.
26. The incident at Shana's party where the cops had to be called and we were too chicken to go home and face the music, so we (Brenda, Beth, Kerri and I) slept in my Mom's car in the Tops Parking lot. (And froze our collective asses off.)
27. Hanging out with PJ to wake and bake.
28. The night I didn't come back to the dorm room. (Actually a proud moment, thank you all for clapping upon my return the next morning.)
29. .74 my first semester at college.
30. Too many more that I can't even begin to mention on here without moving to another country and changing my name.
1. Crushing smarties in Mrs. Adams English class in order to snort them. (FYI: Burned horribly.)
2. Riding on the top of the hood of LB's car. (Holding on to what I don't know.)
3. Patio Motel Room 3. (Incredibly stupid!)
4. Getting in school suspension because the ISS teacher had a nice ass. (Although he did write in MY yearbook that he enjoyed having me - correction - my presence in the ISS room.)
5. Adnerb and Yecats. And really, you can't name a pair of shoes after yourself, it's just wrong.
6. Skipping school with Rob and Robin to watch Brahm Stoker's Dracula.
7. Giving blood to go home early from school without permission.
8. Sass mouthing the vice principal, the day we forged notes to leave early.
9. Forging another note saying I had missed school due to a death in the family, not mentioning that it was my Dad's dog, and subsequently earning ISS (once) again.
10. Borrowing my Mom's car to go joyriding (without a license) and getting caught because I changed the radio station and put too much gas back into the tank.
11. The garage incident. (Ooops, my bad.)
12. Our entire senior year of gym class and the excuse that we could just stand there doing nothing because we were seniors ...
13. Failing my Math regents with a 32. (Attending summer school and earning an 86.)
14. The night I stole your shoe and you almost fell into a pond on private property.
15. Sneaking Mike S. into the house on prom night.
16. Making asses of ourselves on prom night, even though we didn't actually go. (No jeans allowed, the bastards!)
17. Playing on railroad tracks.
18. That one thing I cannot mention for legal repercussions but that involved a lot of red snow cone flavoring and oyster crackers.
19. Flushing your favorite sweatshirt down the toilet in college.
20. Swimming in the creek on an incredibly cold night because Rob dared me to.
21. The college video. (Which speaks for itself.)
22. Any of the guys we hung out with that we shouldn't have.
23. Not stopping you sooner from making out with the bouncer at that one bar before everyone could start chanting your name.
24. Skipping my American Government class to attend the same badminton class as Brenda because I liked a guy named Karlton who informed me that he was from another planet.
25. The accident with Dave aka "Lettuce" (we met over the salad bar) in the Price Chopper parking lot.
26. The incident at Shana's party where the cops had to be called and we were too chicken to go home and face the music, so we (Brenda, Beth, Kerri and I) slept in my Mom's car in the Tops Parking lot. (And froze our collective asses off.)
27. Hanging out with PJ to wake and bake.
28. The night I didn't come back to the dorm room. (Actually a proud moment, thank you all for clapping upon my return the next morning.)
29. .74 my first semester at college.
30. Too many more that I can't even begin to mention on here without moving to another country and changing my name.
Happy Blog Day
Two years ago today, I stumbled on a little word called BLOG and I haven't been the same since. Happy Blog Day NWTLO. Your present - like everything else - is in the mail.
At the End of the Day
Such a quiet day at work today, you could have heard a pin drop. The phones weren't ringing, the fax machine was bare, and no one felt like doing any work today. Instead we all gathered - well my side of the hall gathered - into BM's office where we discussed everything from yesterday's reviews to Nick at Nite television programming, and Moe's really realistic Andy Rooney impersonation was a big hit as well.
Slug however was absent, and I have a feeling his review didn't go over quite so well. Not sure how that's going to pan out, but I'm hoping he pulls it together and gets himself grounded before the thaw moves us in full throttle again.
Truth be told, I enjoy our busy season. And it's a far cry better than having to wait for the snow to melt in order to leave the busy work behind and get back to the job.
About it for me for the night, I'm at the end of my tether for keeping my eyes open and staying awake. And since I don't want to fall asleep on the couch for a second night in a row, only to wake up at two in the morning to realize that "Ow. I've turned myself into a human pretzel," I think I'll play it smart and get to going while I still can.
Sweet dreams all.
Slug however was absent, and I have a feeling his review didn't go over quite so well. Not sure how that's going to pan out, but I'm hoping he pulls it together and gets himself grounded before the thaw moves us in full throttle again.
Truth be told, I enjoy our busy season. And it's a far cry better than having to wait for the snow to melt in order to leave the busy work behind and get back to the job.
About it for me for the night, I'm at the end of my tether for keeping my eyes open and staying awake. And since I don't want to fall asleep on the couch for a second night in a row, only to wake up at two in the morning to realize that "Ow. I've turned myself into a human pretzel," I think I'll play it smart and get to going while I still can.
Sweet dreams all.
Woops
A bit tired last night, and more so than I had initially thought. But then again, I guess waiting all day to be the last one reviewed by the firing squad had my nerves to the point of frazzled, that had I stuck my fingers into an electrical socket, they couldn't have been more frayed.
And speaking in my own defense, I was absolutely fine until my friend Jake (who was the first to be reviewed) sat in my office waiting for the come on in gesture while mentally - and in great detail - rambled on and away about whether this would be the year he'd get the axe. Thereby proving my point that gloom and doom can be contagious.
But it's hard to be only one person in a room of three others who get to decide whether or not they've liked your performance for the year and whether or not they'd like to reward you for it. And being last, well ... You kind of start wondering if they've saved the best for last or if they're just trying to limit the time it takes to pack up your personal belongings and march you out the door, all without creating too much of a drama scene.
As for me, I've come to the conclusion that I really DO like the new Vice President. Not only was he fair during the review, and even quite easy to talk to, but he paid me the highest compliment a girl like me always loves to get. He appreciated my sincerity and my honesty, and said that the (non-bullshit) way I went about asking for a higher increase, was a telling sign of my own personal integrity and my commitment to the company.
Hell ya, is all I have to say on that. I drove home with such a smile on my face that I didn't even bother to put on the highbeams. I was downright giddy, giggling and overjoyed that I stuck my courage to the sticking place. I am the official Shiz-net today.
And speaking in my own defense, I was absolutely fine until my friend Jake (who was the first to be reviewed) sat in my office waiting for the come on in gesture while mentally - and in great detail - rambled on and away about whether this would be the year he'd get the axe. Thereby proving my point that gloom and doom can be contagious.
But it's hard to be only one person in a room of three others who get to decide whether or not they've liked your performance for the year and whether or not they'd like to reward you for it. And being last, well ... You kind of start wondering if they've saved the best for last or if they're just trying to limit the time it takes to pack up your personal belongings and march you out the door, all without creating too much of a drama scene.
As for me, I've come to the conclusion that I really DO like the new Vice President. Not only was he fair during the review, and even quite easy to talk to, but he paid me the highest compliment a girl like me always loves to get. He appreciated my sincerity and my honesty, and said that the (non-bullshit) way I went about asking for a higher increase, was a telling sign of my own personal integrity and my commitment to the company.
Hell ya, is all I have to say on that. I drove home with such a smile on my face that I didn't even bother to put on the highbeams. I was downright giddy, giggling and overjoyed that I stuck my courage to the sticking place. I am the official Shiz-net today.
Blessed Relief
Home for a moment before heading back out to retrieve KC from Grandpa's but I had to stop long enough to share my happiness.
1. My annual review is over, over, over.
and
2. I negotiated for a higher increase and GOT IT!
I am SO proud of myself for finally having the guts to say, "I'm worth more."
More later. Can't be late.
1. My annual review is over, over, over.
and
2. I negotiated for a higher increase and GOT IT!
I am SO proud of myself for finally having the guts to say, "I'm worth more."
More later. Can't be late.
Oxygen Deprived Snow Day
Today turned out to be the unofficial take your daughter to work day. Or as I'm more apt to call it, pick your daughter up as soon as possible from the sitters to save yourself some dinero day.
Yes, yes. KC's school was canceled once again due to arctic conditions and buses unable to start. But of course, they tried to pass it off as a delay, first for one hour, and then another, until finally they threw their hands up in the air and said, "Hell with it. Let's just close!" Decision making skills I would have agreed with had they come up with that idea prior to my having dropped the minor child off at the sitters and heading in to work.
So there I was at work, eyeballing the calculator and watching dollar signs with wings kiss me good-bye as they fluttered out and away from my wallet. And I thought to myself "Hmmmm," as I tapped my chin and said very thoughtfully, "What to do to correct this?"
The answer came to me like a dream, but all screaming aside, I ignored my "don't even think about it" self warnings as I dialed my bosses extension.
Now I can always tell when my boss is going to answer his phone, because he clears his throat right before he answers. And usually, when I'm not the one calling him, I imitate his throat clearing - cough for cough - until he finally yells down the hall for me to knock it off.
This time however there was no cough clearing and no answer. (Damn!) He left me little choice but to go find him in person. But find him I did, and yes he did say to KC coming in for the afternoon. And so she did, complete with portable DVD player and the promise to behave after a lengthy car ride conversation in which I instilled the thought of everything in her room disappearing if she didn't.
Needless to say, I'm happy to report that her behavior was phenomenal - I also admit to still being in a state of shock. Happy shock, but shock all the same.
(Post Break x lots ...)
What you all don't know is that KC and I just finished (2 or so hours ago) tonight's DDR Max session. (I am in pain.) And for those of you who are now wondering what it is I'm talking about, DDR Max is a dance game that disguises exercise as something fun to do. And since it's too damn cold to brave the elements outside and I've more than learned my lesson on my last never went to but paid for a year gym membership, this really is the perfect solution ... Minus someone else doing it that is and my own lack of high metabolism leading to the gorgeously svelte body that God - in his infinite wisdom - has chosen NOT to bless me with. (Have I mentioned I've yet to understand his bizarre sense of humor?)
Anyhoo, we did about an hour before I finally collapsed on the floor in the attempt to catch my breath and said, "No more ..." At which point KC broke out the steel toe shoes and started kicking me repeatedly while I was down. And I was like, "Back little Linda Blair in training!" as I desperately tried to shield my face from the blows.
Alright. Alright. So none of the above paragraph really happened, short of me collapsing on the floor and praying for mercy, the remote control and the blessed off button.
Yes, yes. KC's school was canceled once again due to arctic conditions and buses unable to start. But of course, they tried to pass it off as a delay, first for one hour, and then another, until finally they threw their hands up in the air and said, "Hell with it. Let's just close!" Decision making skills I would have agreed with had they come up with that idea prior to my having dropped the minor child off at the sitters and heading in to work.
So there I was at work, eyeballing the calculator and watching dollar signs with wings kiss me good-bye as they fluttered out and away from my wallet. And I thought to myself "Hmmmm," as I tapped my chin and said very thoughtfully, "What to do to correct this?"
The answer came to me like a dream, but all screaming aside, I ignored my "don't even think about it" self warnings as I dialed my bosses extension.
Now I can always tell when my boss is going to answer his phone, because he clears his throat right before he answers. And usually, when I'm not the one calling him, I imitate his throat clearing - cough for cough - until he finally yells down the hall for me to knock it off.
This time however there was no cough clearing and no answer. (Damn!) He left me little choice but to go find him in person. But find him I did, and yes he did say to KC coming in for the afternoon. And so she did, complete with portable DVD player and the promise to behave after a lengthy car ride conversation in which I instilled the thought of everything in her room disappearing if she didn't.
Needless to say, I'm happy to report that her behavior was phenomenal - I also admit to still being in a state of shock. Happy shock, but shock all the same.
(Post Break x lots ...)
What you all don't know is that KC and I just finished (2 or so hours ago) tonight's DDR Max session. (I am in pain.) And for those of you who are now wondering what it is I'm talking about, DDR Max is a dance game that disguises exercise as something fun to do. And since it's too damn cold to brave the elements outside and I've more than learned my lesson on my last never went to but paid for a year gym membership, this really is the perfect solution ... Minus someone else doing it that is and my own lack of high metabolism leading to the gorgeously svelte body that God - in his infinite wisdom - has chosen NOT to bless me with. (Have I mentioned I've yet to understand his bizarre sense of humor?)
Anyhoo, we did about an hour before I finally collapsed on the floor in the attempt to catch my breath and said, "No more ..." At which point KC broke out the steel toe shoes and started kicking me repeatedly while I was down. And I was like, "Back little Linda Blair in training!" as I desperately tried to shield my face from the blows.
Alright. Alright. So none of the above paragraph really happened, short of me collapsing on the floor and praying for mercy, the remote control and the blessed off button.
Orbling's Curse
On the off chance that I ever find myself playing Survivor without the million dollar prize and an entire film crew to film all my actions, these are some of the things I wouldn't want to live without.
Be careful folks, you're about to get a one way trip into my psyche.
Be careful folks, you're about to get a one way trip into my psyche.
