J is off pretending to be twenty-one and still able to go see concerts on weeknights until the wee hours of the morning without looking like a hatchet face tonight--a fantasy that he will try to keep up through the weekend when he goes to San Francisco to visit Uncle Chris. They have eighty-four thousand things planned including multiple ball games and concerts and much much boozing. J keeps speaking in hushed and worshipful tones about doing Jaeger shots at a bar where a girl in a bikini pours them down an ice slide right into your throat. You can tell he thinks that that bar is just heaven and why on EARTH do Christians think that you have to die to go there? Clearly you just have to go to San Francisco. You even get to see her nipples for free.
I am playing single girl, something that I am embarrassed to admit I do not really know how to do. I am officially the old married hag who cannot remember living alone. Which I did live alone, for a few years even and I was great at it. With the going out with people every night and multiple boyfriends and all. Sadly, most of my activities would be verboten in the new harsh monogamy but still. . . one would think I would have some plans.
I actually do have plans. I plan to setup my attic painting space and buy light fixtures and go bed shopping for the guest room. Oh! And scrub my floors! Hot DAYAM. I am a wild woman. I should charge a cover to come to my house.
I also need to carve a pumpkin since HOLY SHIT it is almost Halloween. I feel like it was summer like a week ago and suddenly it is all wool coats and knee high boots and shit I have not purchased a vegetable in which to carve a silly face and lure small children to my home to amuse me with their funny outfits. Must get cracking on this.
The truth is that I really don't miss the old me that much. I take that back, I used to have a lot of fun, I had some really great friends to hang out with. One of the ugly truths is that even if you are not a smug married (which I swear I wasn't because dude I was a child bride and I knew it) your fun girl friends (and forget male friends, you have to start all over once you get married because the old ones now realize that you are never ever fucking them and hit the road Jack) abandon ship. I mean I was never so much on girlfriends to begin with (as am terrible with bullshit) but I do miss the going out and making an ass of myself part (as is every woman I know since we all were acting all psycho at that wedding). My best friend lives in Colorado and sometimes I just want to fly her out here so we can go get a pedicure and eat queso dip and have to call some one to come pick our asses up because we are not even entirely sure where we are.
Actually is anyone up for that this weekend? It sounds pretty good.
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