My Record Cake Collection

Conversations with Friends

This is a conversation I just had.

Me: I don’t care if he pushes me against a wall and invokes the spirit of Hemingway, himself. I’m not sleeping with him.

Friend: Hemingway? I would think Henry James would be better.

Me: Henry James was gay.

Friend: The Tropic of Cancer guy?

Me: You mean Henry Miller.

Friend: Oh yeah.

This is also one of the many reasons I’m single.

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What in the hell is going on here?

They look like stoned vampires.

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Birds of a Feather

Within ten minutes, three different friends had posted these three pictures to Facebook. I think it’s pretty clear that I have awesome friends.

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Random Thoughts for Today

Every once in a while my mind kicks into overdrive and there aren’t enough Facebook statuses to compensate for all of the things I’m thinking. Today is one of those days.

First of all, ice cream is the devil. I’m a recovering foodie. Even the cheap leftover plastic-tub-birthday-party stuff that lingers in my freezer is tantamount to wafting a cold Colt 45 under the nose of a recovering alcoholic. I feel like I’m on a bender and once it’s gone, I won’t have to look at it anymore. I can quit whenever I want. I repeat this mantra to myself every morning. It’s 11:30 and I’m having my first bowl.
Trying to make friends as an adult is harder than when I was a kid. I was quicker to forgive thoughtlessness a child. Now I assume that if somebody has had 32 years to learn how to behave and they still hurt you, they’re either selfish or just not that concerned with your feelings.
My mother’s cycle was completely consistent for at least 15 years. All three of her kids birthdays happen on the 22nd or 25th of their respective months.
I’m not sure I ever want to have kids. I’m of the age that I should do it soon if I’m going to do it at all. However, the thought of never sitting outdoors, under the warm summer air listening to John Mayer riff on his guitar makes me sad in a way that I simply can not articulate.
I watched five seasons of Lost in two weeks. Now I have to wait until January for the last season. I miss my friends.
At the urging of my friends I’ve broken down and created profiles on a two internet dating sites. One of the first things I find out is where they see themselves living in 10-15 years. If they say the country or a small town, I’m out. Judgmental yes, but I’m getting too old to waste time with somebody who I know isn’t compatible. I just see my life being bigger.
I’ve always thought of myself more as a Sidalee from Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, but every once in a while I get a glimpse of Vivian.
I’m bored with two solid days of studying and homework. I don’t actually want to leave my house, but even my pretend British husband is too busy to pay attention to me today. Perhaps the gluttonous way I’m consuming cheap ice cream is off putting to somebody who aspires to see me naked one day.
I need a nap before I take my brother to the movie. My body isn’t accustomed to sugar anymore and the evil ice cream is towing me under.
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