Tag Archives: blogging

The Title is Title

The following are titles of blog posts I’ve intended to write for years but probably never will:

  • McDonalds’ Playhell: Lord of the Fries
  • South American Donald Trump Wants You to Buy a Classy Thong
  • I Just Gave You Melanoma
  • Return of the Working Mother (Demise of the Magic Fucking Laundry Fairy)
  • The Korean Cab Hustle
  • My life with PMDD: Premenstrual Dysphoric DEATHtoALL
  • Kid-Free, Clothing Optional
  • Soju Blackout
  • If There’s Lipstick on Her Teeth, It’s a Vicodin Day
  • Hello Ultra-size Tampon, Goodbye Hymen
  • Damnit Niki: And Other Tales of Assholery

Then again, my failure to share these gentle, heartwarming tales might just be for the best.

And I Said to Myself…

I, like many of us who move onto the newest, coolest, next-best-thing on the interwebs, have a neglected Livejournal account. I decided to revisit it recently and found all sorts of obnoxious things to delete. But here and there I found gems that made me smile, laugh or even tear up. Like the entry below, where I talk about drinking to excess and smoking (um…I was still in my twenties? Heaven knows I’d never be so shameless now…not never) and being scared to death of the mere idea of marrying my now husband.

I’d been living in Arizona just two months at the time this was written.
Funny, in retrospect. And sweet, in it’s way.

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Originally Posted: November 20th, 2006
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we went out last night and i was the stranger in the strange land. i drank steadily, out of boredom, and i smoked three cigarettes . i haven’t smoked in two months. but for all the drinking i was never drunk, and for all the smoking i was never ill. except for when i woke this morning – in pure misery.

and when my eyes could focus again i glanced across the bedroom and i saw a dozen red roses.
this was my….hangover present? no. this was just because he loves me.

what’s so funny is, the night before a friend of his was speaking about her impending wedding, and as she related a story about her fiance she said, “and that’s when i said to myself ‘i’m going to marry this man'”, and scott turns to me and asks “so, have you had an ‘i’m going to marry this man’ moment yet?” i quickly got up from the table and mumbled, “what? i don’t know. ihavetogototherestroomnowbutiloveyou…” and exited in a hurry.

as i left i heard him tell his friend, “she always gets paranoid when we talk about marriage.”

true and not true. because we don’t talk about it. we allude to it.

what i would have answered, if i had the cajones, and maybe should have answered, is that i’ve had an “i’m going to marry this man” moment every single day for longer than i’m willing to admit – even here. take this morning, for instance, with the roses. that was a definite “i’d be lucky to call you my husband someday” moment, for sure.

but i never tell him these things. i tell him how much i love him – how VERY much i love him – but i rarely confide how frightened i am to dream of a future with him. and i don’t know why. because nothing would make me happier. nothing.

and when he snuck up behind me while i was typing this, i was so startled i jumped up and reflexively karate-chopped him in the throat.
whoops.
there goes my engagement ring.