I get my validation from valet parking stamps
In the words of South Park’s Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo: “Hi-Di-Haaa!”
I’m back kids, back with a vengence. I know you all have had to endure a drought such as this — don’t worry, your dry throats will be well sated in the weeks to come. It’s been a successful three-plus week break from all things Internet. I was going to carry it all the way through to the end of Lent, but then two things happened: I realized that the craziness might not becoming from the technology I was taking in, and then last week a whole three of you gentle readers reached out and ostensibly said “where the hell are you?”
‘Nuff said. So here I am, on the morning of Christina’s wedding, the house still, the sky outside overcast. The day is finally here. So much of this year has revolved around her happenings, and soon it will be all over. I bought shoes the other day to go with my dress and when I got them home, I realized that they didn’t match at all. The weather man said it would also be seventy-eight degrees and sunny, and unless it clears up later in the morning, he was dead wrong, that guy.
I will be going stag to this event, recently emancipated, as Nathan and I broke up yesterday. I had to endure a sea of open-mouthed gazes from the ladies of the wedding party at the rehearsal dinner last night. As we sat in Starbucks having that rather difficult conversation, my immediate thought was: “hey you’re pretty hot, where was this assertive guy when we were dating?” I started to try and win the argument over so that he’d stay, but then dropped it when I realized that he’d probably end up being miserable if forced to stick around. After I got over the pride of being dumped (haha…he), I felt pretty peaceful about it, knowing that it’s probably for the best, and better now than say, a year from now. Ah the fickle relationship beast, what a leering and strange thing you are. This morning I’m in the “meh” phase.
But there’s no time for this — I have to run and do my hair!