My BFF is the best BFF in the whole wide world. She understands everything that comes out of my mouth before I say it - and I know everyone says that about their BFF, but if you heard some of the things that come out of my mouth, you would understand how extrodinary it really is. And she listens to me complain...sometimes for hours on end. (Literally.) And she's the reason I finally broke it off with Latest Ex-boyfriend. And she sticks up for me, even to my formidible mother. (Not an easy thing to do.) And she's so funny, sometimes I can't even stand it!
And she's pregnant.
Now, whilst she may not appreciate me broadcasting this to the whole wide world, I'm pretty sure she's figured I'd broadcast it here eventually. So why not sooner than later, eh?
But to the point: today, for whatever reason, it really hit me. "Oh my greek goddess. BFF is pregnant." It was then I realized that soon, very soon, our ridiculously long phone conversations probably won't be as frequent, and our hours of communal TV watching will probably have to be put on hold, and while she's worried about boiling nipples (not hers) and getting a full night's sleep, I'll be worrying about whether or not my shoes from last year could pass for this season's and how many times I should go out with some guy before I dump him (or say I'm gonna dump him and then wimp out). HOLY CRAP! SHE'S HAVING A BABY!!
I'm totally having oldest child syndrome all over again!!! I'm having flashbacks to 1984. How can BFF take care of me when she's having another human who actually has a good excuse to be a helpless heap of bone and flesh???!!
Now, I realize that these fears are probably completely irrational, but the last time I can remember having any sort of rational thought was in 1983. Right before that little creep who stole my spotlight was born, known affectionately to my parents as "Son."
Dearst BFF, once you have your tiny bundle of joy, (that I plan on totally corrupting once he/she reaches 1.5 years of age) please promise me that you won't forget my co-dependency on you. Please? Please?!! As long as I have that reassurance, I think I'll be able to handle not being your only child anymore.
All my neurotic, needy love,
Queen, III
Friday, March 23, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
FOILED!
I wanted nothing more than to come back to this great state of Texas and tell you all that my plans for SOAPM went off without a hitch, that SOAPM was defeated by my mischief and made to throw in the towel, so to speak...I honestly wanted nothing more....
You see, it all started off splendidly. SOAPM committed a series of bone-headed blunders that were sure to give him a front-row seat to "The Heel of My Hott Boots Show." (It's actually a pretty great show, as long as you're not on the receiving end of my heel.)
Firstly, he didn't discover that his debit card didn't work until we were at the airport, about to leave. Additionally, he didn't have any cash - nor any other credit cards on which he could fall back. He had to call his daddy to wire him some bread. I was so freakin' irritated, I almost fainted. Deep down, however, I was simply delighted because I knew that as long as he kept the bonehead act up, treating him like dirt for the entire trip wouldn't be that hard.
Secondly, he kept saying the most excruciatingly idiotic things, typically followed with an, "I know." For example, on the day we made the long trip to creepy, crappy Coney Island (which really isn't an island), we had an unfortunate mishap involving a lack of bathrooms and a grocery store run by the Russian mafia. After said mishap, SOAPM make this excruciatingly idiotic statement:
"This place has A LOT of money. Yeah. Those Russians always have money."
I'm serious.
Well, I just couldn't take it anymore and I flipped out and was like, "SOAPM, shut up!!! You have no idea!! Look around at this shit-hole!!!! There's no money here! You're crazy!!!"
"No," he said. "I have a lot of friends who are Russian. I know."
"WHAT?!!! YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE ANY FRIENDS!!! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!!!! WE ENCOUNTER, LIKE, 2 RUSSIANS, AND SUDDENLY YOU KNOW ALL ABOUT THE FISCAL HEALTH OF CONEY ISLAND!!!!!!!! WE'VE BEEN HERE EXACTLY FIVE SECONDS!!!! THERE'S NO WAY YOU COULD POSSIBLY KNOW ANYTHING!!!"
Well, that sparked a pretty big argument, in which I hurled many insults until he finally admitted he was as dumb as a stump....No! Only kidding. He'd never admit to that. He did, however, admit that he had very little knowledge of the exact fiscal status of Coney Island, although I couldn't get him to admit that he doesn't know any Russians.
And this was just one of the many, many, many ridiculous statements SOAPM made. Most of them, I ignored because I didn't have the energy to argue. Because, as you can see from the above argument, they really drained me.
Now, keep in mind that during the first part of the week, there were many, many things that SOAPM did that were irritating, frustrating, and downright stupid (like talking to his ex-girlfriend on the phone), but I'm just giving you the highlights, because if I told you everything, you'd all want to impale yourselves.
Thirdly, and OH! this is the big one, SOAPM made a HUGE....and I mean HUGE ...scene in the subway one night. It all started over a little squabble over directions. He was acting like a jack-ass, so I was really letting him have it. Well, I guess he had enough, because, man did he explode! He started yelling at me, and loudly, too. He was so loud, in fact, that I was beginning to be embarrassed. ME!! Embarrassed!!! It takes quite a lot to embarrass me. Just ask my BFF. So, I started to say very quietly, "SOAPM, stop, please, you're embarrassing me." But, he wouldn't stop!! He just kept getting louder and louder and meaner. We walk down into the subway and he still is kind of yelling, and then bam! he loses it. He yells so loudly, that everyone in the New York subway turned their heads suddenly to look at the stupid skank who was about to get beaten by her pimp. I'm blindsided. I say, "I'm not going to let you talk to me like this, I'll just go ride another subway." And I turned on my heels and walked out of the subway as ALL the New Yorkers stared at me. It was so quiet, you could hear my every step on the way out. Usually, I love it when everyone's eyes are on me. But, not that night. Oh, no. It was just like a scene out of a Lifetime movie. I felt like such a victim.
But, SOAPM didn't stop there. He followed me out on to the street, and proceeded to argue even more with me!! I don't even really remember what the argument was about. I just remember thinking that I wanted to get away. Finally, after he had exhausted his wind pipes, I suggested that we just meet back up at the hotel. I'd take a different subway and meet him there, to give us both time to cool off.
So, there I am, in New York City, walking by myself at 1am to the subway. I felt very sorry for myself. Fortunately, I looked really cute that night, so it was a sort of self-righteous melancholy, which is the best kind.
Now, this HAD to be the end for SOAPM! There was no way in the world he could recover from this tragic mishap!! I was so very content.
The next day, SOAPM got the silent treatment. His career as one of the many men who get to take me out was OVER! Job well done, me.
...but then...
*heavy sigh*
he bought me some liquor.
He started talking...and I started talking....and he started pleading....and I was weak from all the walking and the alcohol....and he started saying that he would do things differently and please, please, please and he's so sorry and he started to feel distance between us before the trip and he just didn't know what to do....
I let loose and told him everything that he had ever done to irritate me and how it just couldn't work unless such and such changed and how I thought he was totally not ready to date, blah, blah, blah....I pulled out all the tricks to try and convince him he didn't want to date me, I swear! I was unreasonable, a prima donna, insulting, and bitchy! I thought he had conceded. And I was about to be as free as a bird!
...but then...
*heavy sigh*
He started to take my suggestions. No more phone calls from his ex-girlfriend. No more excruciatingly idiotic statements, no more fights over directions...and he started to focus on me quite a bit. And I started to get a little confused. But, no, Queen!! Stay focused! SOAPM is curb material! Don't be deterred! Focus!
And then one day toward the end of the week, cold, frigid air started to blow in and I developed a consumptive cough, and SOAPM took care of me! Without complaining. Okay...but no biggie....so what, right?...this is just an act....ignore it, Queen, because it isn't real!
But, maybe he's been such a jerk because I've been such a jerk! (Clearly, he slipped something into my cough syrup.)
So, I didn’t make the lesbians touch him. And I wasn’t mean to him 100% of the time. I even went to go see Phantom of the Opera because he wanted to.
I wish I could say I was stronger. I wish I could report that for the entirety of my time with him, I was an absolute Queen Bitch, but alas! I would be a fibber if I did so.
The good news is that during the layover on the way back, he took a call from his ex-girlfriend. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble putting on my hott boots and kicking him to the proverbial curb. Amen.
You see, it all started off splendidly. SOAPM committed a series of bone-headed blunders that were sure to give him a front-row seat to "The Heel of My Hott Boots Show." (It's actually a pretty great show, as long as you're not on the receiving end of my heel.)
Firstly, he didn't discover that his debit card didn't work until we were at the airport, about to leave. Additionally, he didn't have any cash - nor any other credit cards on which he could fall back. He had to call his daddy to wire him some bread. I was so freakin' irritated, I almost fainted. Deep down, however, I was simply delighted because I knew that as long as he kept the bonehead act up, treating him like dirt for the entire trip wouldn't be that hard.
Secondly, he kept saying the most excruciatingly idiotic things, typically followed with an, "I know." For example, on the day we made the long trip to creepy, crappy Coney Island (which really isn't an island), we had an unfortunate mishap involving a lack of bathrooms and a grocery store run by the Russian mafia. After said mishap, SOAPM make this excruciatingly idiotic statement:
"This place has A LOT of money. Yeah. Those Russians always have money."
I'm serious.
Well, I just couldn't take it anymore and I flipped out and was like, "SOAPM, shut up!!! You have no idea!! Look around at this shit-hole!!!! There's no money here! You're crazy!!!"
"No," he said. "I have a lot of friends who are Russian. I know."
"WHAT?!!! YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE ANY FRIENDS!!! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!!!! WE ENCOUNTER, LIKE, 2 RUSSIANS, AND SUDDENLY YOU KNOW ALL ABOUT THE FISCAL HEALTH OF CONEY ISLAND!!!!!!!! WE'VE BEEN HERE EXACTLY FIVE SECONDS!!!! THERE'S NO WAY YOU COULD POSSIBLY KNOW ANYTHING!!!"
Well, that sparked a pretty big argument, in which I hurled many insults until he finally admitted he was as dumb as a stump....No! Only kidding. He'd never admit to that. He did, however, admit that he had very little knowledge of the exact fiscal status of Coney Island, although I couldn't get him to admit that he doesn't know any Russians.
And this was just one of the many, many, many ridiculous statements SOAPM made. Most of them, I ignored because I didn't have the energy to argue. Because, as you can see from the above argument, they really drained me.
Now, keep in mind that during the first part of the week, there were many, many things that SOAPM did that were irritating, frustrating, and downright stupid (like talking to his ex-girlfriend on the phone), but I'm just giving you the highlights, because if I told you everything, you'd all want to impale yourselves.
Thirdly, and OH! this is the big one, SOAPM made a HUGE....and I mean HUGE ...scene in the subway one night. It all started over a little squabble over directions. He was acting like a jack-ass, so I was really letting him have it. Well, I guess he had enough, because, man did he explode! He started yelling at me, and loudly, too. He was so loud, in fact, that I was beginning to be embarrassed. ME!! Embarrassed!!! It takes quite a lot to embarrass me. Just ask my BFF. So, I started to say very quietly, "SOAPM, stop, please, you're embarrassing me." But, he wouldn't stop!! He just kept getting louder and louder and meaner. We walk down into the subway and he still is kind of yelling, and then bam! he loses it. He yells so loudly, that everyone in the New York subway turned their heads suddenly to look at the stupid skank who was about to get beaten by her pimp. I'm blindsided. I say, "I'm not going to let you talk to me like this, I'll just go ride another subway." And I turned on my heels and walked out of the subway as ALL the New Yorkers stared at me. It was so quiet, you could hear my every step on the way out. Usually, I love it when everyone's eyes are on me. But, not that night. Oh, no. It was just like a scene out of a Lifetime movie. I felt like such a victim.
But, SOAPM didn't stop there. He followed me out on to the street, and proceeded to argue even more with me!! I don't even really remember what the argument was about. I just remember thinking that I wanted to get away. Finally, after he had exhausted his wind pipes, I suggested that we just meet back up at the hotel. I'd take a different subway and meet him there, to give us both time to cool off.
So, there I am, in New York City, walking by myself at 1am to the subway. I felt very sorry for myself. Fortunately, I looked really cute that night, so it was a sort of self-righteous melancholy, which is the best kind.
Now, this HAD to be the end for SOAPM! There was no way in the world he could recover from this tragic mishap!! I was so very content.
The next day, SOAPM got the silent treatment. His career as one of the many men who get to take me out was OVER! Job well done, me.
...but then...
*heavy sigh*
he bought me some liquor.
He started talking...and I started talking....and he started pleading....and I was weak from all the walking and the alcohol....and he started saying that he would do things differently and please, please, please and he's so sorry and he started to feel distance between us before the trip and he just didn't know what to do....
I let loose and told him everything that he had ever done to irritate me and how it just couldn't work unless such and such changed and how I thought he was totally not ready to date, blah, blah, blah....I pulled out all the tricks to try and convince him he didn't want to date me, I swear! I was unreasonable, a prima donna, insulting, and bitchy! I thought he had conceded. And I was about to be as free as a bird!
...but then...
*heavy sigh*
He started to take my suggestions. No more phone calls from his ex-girlfriend. No more excruciatingly idiotic statements, no more fights over directions...and he started to focus on me quite a bit. And I started to get a little confused. But, no, Queen!! Stay focused! SOAPM is curb material! Don't be deterred! Focus!
And then one day toward the end of the week, cold, frigid air started to blow in and I developed a consumptive cough, and SOAPM took care of me! Without complaining. Okay...but no biggie....so what, right?...this is just an act....ignore it, Queen, because it isn't real!
But, maybe he's been such a jerk because I've been such a jerk! (Clearly, he slipped something into my cough syrup.)
So, I didn’t make the lesbians touch him. And I wasn’t mean to him 100% of the time. I even went to go see Phantom of the Opera because he wanted to.
I wish I could say I was stronger. I wish I could report that for the entirety of my time with him, I was an absolute Queen Bitch, but alas! I would be a fibber if I did so.
The good news is that during the layover on the way back, he took a call from his ex-girlfriend. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble putting on my hott boots and kicking him to the proverbial curb. Amen.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Thursday, March 08, 2007
SOAPM moves foward toward his ill fate
In addition to being on my ever-loving nerves, SOAPM and I still have to go to New York together.
Last night my mom begged me to not be mean to the boy, to not exclude him from the activities Forky and I were planning, and to not make him feel like "the third wheel," so to speak.
"Well, Mom, if he feels left out, he can just go call his ex-girlfriend."
He picked his fate, not I!!! NOT I, Mother!!
Ahh, SOAPM: a lamb to the slaughter.
Last night my mom begged me to not be mean to the boy, to not exclude him from the activities Forky and I were planning, and to not make him feel like "the third wheel," so to speak.
"Well, Mom, if he feels left out, he can just go call his ex-girlfriend."
He picked his fate, not I!!! NOT I, Mother!!
Ahh, SOAPM: a lamb to the slaughter.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
exit SOAPM
*sigh* Well, I've learned my lesson with SOAPM. It's sad and just a little bit tragic, but you know, honestly, I was left without a choice. What is so astonishing to me is that someone as desperately nerdy as he would have to audacity to treat me ill in any manner. Oh, it's true that he certainly never beat me nor was he a drug dealer or a pimp, but he was irritating and sometimes a little bit of a liar. I kept telling myself, "But Queen, he's supposed to be a good guy. Maybe you're just overreacting." And, honestly, I overreact so much that if in fact I was overreacting, it would come as no surprise. However, I have spent almost 5 long months analyzing the situation, and I've come to the conclusion, that I'm really, truly not overreacting.
I know! I'm just as surprised as anybody!
Last Sunday, SOAPM was supposed to come over. He didn't show up and didn't call until it was clearly too late for him to show up. When he finally did call, I said, "You know you were supposed to come over, right? But nevermind. Please DON'T. click."
Monday, after thinking about it, I thought, you know, maybe I was overreacting and he really did forget. So, I made nice.
Thursday comes around and we have a date planned. He wants to take me to the driving range (romantic, no?) for our date and then to dinner or whatever. It's raining, so he gets the bright idea to take me to a bowling alley.
I. Don't. Do. Bowling alleys. EVER.
So, we go to the museum instead.
He tells me as he's leaving, "I'll come by tomorrow after school."
After school comes around and he doesn't show up. When he calls me he acts as if he never made a date with me.
Now, I may be a lot of things, but retarded isn't one of them. So, SOAPM, just don't. I'm done. Whatever kind of silly little games your playing, I'm finished. I gave it that ol' college try and it just didn't work out.
And it doesn't help that SOAPM lives with his parents (and apparently likes it), goes to crazy speaking-in-tongues church, has horrible phone etiquette, has questionable personal hygiene, and is excruciatingly boring most of the time.
Here's a clip from a recent conversation:
"So, my dad's cousin on his mom's side - she works from 6:45 - 7:00 in the morning - she slept in her car last night and she came to church and then after church, she came by the house and we talked for a little while, so that was cool."
"uh. huh."
"Yeah, and so she is, like, pretty cool, and she's my dad's cousin actually, and well, she used to be a pastor, I think in, like, Chicago or something and so we talked today just about stuff..."
People, I'm am so, so serious. And this is how most of our conversations go!!! I'm not sure how I tolerated it this long. I'm not sure how SOAPM even survived this long!
So, as much as it fills me with glee to say it, you forced me to it: So long, SOAPM, it wasn't even that fun while it lasted.
I know! I'm just as surprised as anybody!
Last Sunday, SOAPM was supposed to come over. He didn't show up and didn't call until it was clearly too late for him to show up. When he finally did call, I said, "You know you were supposed to come over, right? But nevermind. Please DON'T. click."
Monday, after thinking about it, I thought, you know, maybe I was overreacting and he really did forget. So, I made nice.
Thursday comes around and we have a date planned. He wants to take me to the driving range (romantic, no?) for our date and then to dinner or whatever. It's raining, so he gets the bright idea to take me to a bowling alley.
I. Don't. Do. Bowling alleys. EVER.
So, we go to the museum instead.
He tells me as he's leaving, "I'll come by tomorrow after school."
After school comes around and he doesn't show up. When he calls me he acts as if he never made a date with me.
Now, I may be a lot of things, but retarded isn't one of them. So, SOAPM, just don't. I'm done. Whatever kind of silly little games your playing, I'm finished. I gave it that ol' college try and it just didn't work out.
And it doesn't help that SOAPM lives with his parents (and apparently likes it), goes to crazy speaking-in-tongues church, has horrible phone etiquette, has questionable personal hygiene, and is excruciatingly boring most of the time.
Here's a clip from a recent conversation:
"So, my dad's cousin on his mom's side - she works from 6:45 - 7:00 in the morning - she slept in her car last night and she came to church and then after church, she came by the house and we talked for a little while, so that was cool."
"uh. huh."
"Yeah, and so she is, like, pretty cool, and she's my dad's cousin actually, and well, she used to be a pastor, I think in, like, Chicago or something and so we talked today just about stuff..."
People, I'm am so, so serious. And this is how most of our conversations go!!! I'm not sure how I tolerated it this long. I'm not sure how SOAPM even survived this long!
So, as much as it fills me with glee to say it, you forced me to it: So long, SOAPM, it wasn't even that fun while it lasted.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Dear SOAPM: You've forced me to it.
SOAPM, I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. But, my hands are tied! You've forced me to this mischievous nonsense.
Remember weekend before last when we were on a double date at the movies and you left in the middle of the movie to talk on your cell phone for a good 30 minutes? And remember this past Friday when we went to your sister's horrid Showtune Choir concert (and I had to listen to a pasty white girl butcher Roberta Flack's "Killing Me Softly") and in the middle of horrid concert, you once again took a call on your cell phone and were gone for well over 10 minutes? Remember?? And remember how both times, the "person," whose "urgent" calls you were taking, turned out to be your ex-girlfriend??
*sigh*
Well, SOAPM there are consequences for your incredulous actions. So, when we go to Noo Yuck, to see my bestie, Forky in his off-off Broadway show, I'm going to fail to mention (inadvertently, of course) that there's lots of naked boobies and lesbian soft-porn scenes within said show.
And, while this will probably hurt your conservative disposition, make you terribly uncomfortable, and possibly a little sick, I'm not going to feel bad for you. In fact, I'll probably be squealing with delight inside my very attractive little body (that you won't ever get to touch again). It may seem horribly cruel to do this to you, especially since you claim that you "haven't done anything wrong," but contrariwise, my mischief is mercifully just!
It's really too bad that you couldn't get it right, SOAPM. But, you leave me with no choice! I have to be mean to you now. I wonder what you thought was going to happen when you STARTED TAKING PHONE CALLS FROM YOUR EX-GIRLFRIEND WHEN YOU WERE WITH ME!!!!
You must have thought I was born yesterday. You also must have thought that I wasn't vengeful.
See? Even a math teacher can miscalculate.
Did I mention that the naked lesbians are going to touch you, too?
Remember weekend before last when we were on a double date at the movies and you left in the middle of the movie to talk on your cell phone for a good 30 minutes? And remember this past Friday when we went to your sister's horrid Showtune Choir concert (and I had to listen to a pasty white girl butcher Roberta Flack's "Killing Me Softly") and in the middle of horrid concert, you once again took a call on your cell phone and were gone for well over 10 minutes? Remember?? And remember how both times, the "person," whose "urgent" calls you were taking, turned out to be your ex-girlfriend??
*sigh*
Well, SOAPM there are consequences for your incredulous actions. So, when we go to Noo Yuck, to see my bestie, Forky in his off-off Broadway show, I'm going to fail to mention (inadvertently, of course) that there's lots of naked boobies and lesbian soft-porn scenes within said show.
And, while this will probably hurt your conservative disposition, make you terribly uncomfortable, and possibly a little sick, I'm not going to feel bad for you. In fact, I'll probably be squealing with delight inside my very attractive little body (that you won't ever get to touch again). It may seem horribly cruel to do this to you, especially since you claim that you "haven't done anything wrong," but contrariwise, my mischief is mercifully just!
It's really too bad that you couldn't get it right, SOAPM. But, you leave me with no choice! I have to be mean to you now. I wonder what you thought was going to happen when you STARTED TAKING PHONE CALLS FROM YOUR EX-GIRLFRIEND WHEN YOU WERE WITH ME!!!!
You must have thought I was born yesterday. You also must have thought that I wasn't vengeful.
See? Even a math teacher can miscalculate.
Did I mention that the naked lesbians are going to touch you, too?
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