Ok 1) I have GOT to stop adding, “and shit” to things, because then I feel obligated to explain that no, there is no actual shit involved since I’ve only written about it 39 times for past TMI Thursdays, and 2) I realize that 8:39 on a Friday night is a super weird time to make any kind of announcement because basically no one reads blogs right now, especially not people with lives. I am not one of those people, however, and I have at least 2 papers to write, preferably by last week. Blogging to avoid homework? Well I never! This benefits no one. I am never going to graduate, let’s just all know that now.
So this is so not like, some big fanfare inducing shit (fuck) thing. But it is good news and it only took 4 so-called “purple shots,” which appear to just be grape vodka, to get it out of me! While under the influence of 4 purple shots, something like 4 rum & cokes and TWO glasses of Responsibility Water, I decided that telling my friend that I’m in love with him was a super awesome plan. Via text. While still AT the bar, where I was dancing like such a skank that I couldn’t walk for 2 days after. As in I texted him while simultaneously droppin’ it like it was (so very, very not) hot. And then, because ohmahgotemotions, I proceeded to bawl my face completely OFF in the bar bathroom which is just the classiest and, I’m sure, has never been done. By me. Since my last birthday (except that was just crying in general, not over a dude). Not my finest moment, but I did meet a lovely girl who reassured me that everything would be ok and then she came and danced skankily with us. I liked her.
Once the light of sobriety hit, I realized that yeah, I completely meant it. So wooo! And then the even colder light of “He Lives In ALASKA” hit and I was all “Son of a bitch.” Also, the panic. Oh god the panic. Because, see, I haven’t said I loved someone and meant it since 2008, and I haven’t said to someone who deserved it since way before that. 2008 was a cheating dillhole. 2011 is a much improved model. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t still flail around a little and say things like “shitshitshitshitwhatdidIjustdo?” and “hehatesmenowIknowit.” Which was stupid since he texted me back with, “I feel the same way,” which is kind of the equivalent of “ditto” but still gets the point across.
But that whole Alaska thing. Fortunately, it’s temporary. Unfortunately, temporary is a relative term, and in this case is something like 17 more months, give or take. Therefore, I am still technically single, which is why I’m sitting in bed on a Friday night making awkward eye contact with my dog while she licks her…thigh? Haunch? I know it’s not her crotch, which is a plus. Instead of doing the sex is how I meant to finish that sentence but this licking is distracting guys. Seriously it’s been at least 5 straight minutes and she’s pretty hairless to begin with. But the nose wrinkles are adorable. Boop. Boop right on your wrinkly nose. Oh tiny dog, I am glad I have you. I forgot where I was. I could read back 4 sentences, but it’s too late. I’m past them and there’s no turning back!
Right, point. There isn’t one, unless it’s that I put on my big girl panties and faced up to big scary feelings even if it is a super difficult situation and yay me or something! Oh and his impending visit forced me to stop procrastinating on all the work that moving entails so in a week or two, I’ll be officially and (pleasegod) permanently out of my parents’ basement. Booyah. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go clip my dog’s toenails and eat whatever is either potato- or cookie-based that I can find. Kloveyoubye! Bam, did it again.