Tuesday, July 11, 2006

A friend indeed is exactly what I need.

The only thing I've ever wanted in my life is for Ben and Lisa to come ot my Slumber Party Massacre next month. And tight pants. And big hair. And a dragon.

I love the fact that my little sister (sure, I adopted her but she might as well be my flesh-n-blood) is turning 20 years old in a few weeks and she still has 3 baby teeth! All of her teeth are itty bitty but these are the itty bittiest ones. The runts of the litter. It sort of fascinates me in a sick and twisted way that something so absurd is going on in her mouth. But I've always been obsessed with the dental end of the facial spectrum. My fella claims he has a "cyclops tooth" and I spend too much time gazing at it longingly. But this is about Jenny Penny. Why haven't those teeth fallen out, I wonder? Maybe they just love her so much that they won't move out. I wouldn't move out if I was one of her teeth. I once read a book in my dentist's office about teeth looking for a smile. The ended up finding a toothless old lady and settling in her gums so they could help her eat pie. Who doesn't love pie? But speaking of moving out...which I mentioned a million lines back...

Jen's moving in on Saturday. Prepare for all Hell to break loose!

3 days later and I'm finally starting to NOT feel like I've been run over by 10 angry horses being chased by 20 gnarly wolves. My body took a beating at the Pussyfoot Girls' Leroy Thompson show. Don't get me wrong, the show was an utter success as far as dancing girls who have access to an open bar go. We didn't drop our knives during the knife dance and though there was the ILLUSION that I cut Jen, I didn't. I accidentally touched her jug with the flat side of the blade. The crowd roared and held their breath in suspense but everyone lived through the night. I left Mentor and all my long distance friends...Sasquatch Dave, Hucklebuck Ted, Cleveland Pete... to have a backyard fire with my fella which was all sorts of confusing since his mouth wouldn't stop and I listened to the same country compilation 4 times in a row. There were tears...but there was also...something. I can't talk about it. I'm keeping this one to myself. It was...something.

Been spending a lot of time with the fella and his offpring which is getting tricky. I'm bonding, or so I think. I have fun with those runts. But I'm still not "the girlfriend". Sure, I sleep there every night and we're looked at as a couple by everyone we know but I am technically disposable. Any minute, he could flip his wig (if he HAD a wig) and want to date every chick under the sun. I don't think that's going to happen...I think he's just being careful. If he's not ready to commit (the dreaded 'C' word), it's better that he's honest with me. My heart can't take much more abuse, you know? It deserves a gentle massage...and it's been getting just that, which scares me. I AM commited. There would be Hurricane Katrina-like devastation if I became marshmallow-less. And let's not forget the mini-marshmallows.

Everyone knows I'm his girlfriend. I just need to get him on-board with that.

Things are still rocky with someone in my life. There was a verbal brawl of sorts on Friday that I believe was totally uncalled for. Sadly, I don't feel as close to this person as I used to and that's a damn shame. Maybe things will change in the future. Who knows? When you go from actually hanging out and making plans with someone to barely remembering what fun you had together...it's rotten. I don't want to end up acquaintences but...hmmm. We shared pancakes today and as everyone knows, that's the official breakfest food of workplace peace. So at least we won't be trying to gouge each others eyeballs out with sticks that have been peed on by dogs. Not today anyway.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

when you come to visit in san antone we will have our own slumber party!