I Think She Washed the Dishes with Pussy Juice. It's What Helps them Get Really Clean.

I am updating. Finally. To add a side note I am intoxicated at this moment. It is, after all, Marathon Sunday. Well the marathon ended hours early, but that's okay I'm sure my liver will be fine with this.

So I had every intention to do nothing but write all day. I woke this morning and drank my coffee then cleaned my house. I was about to sit down to the computer when my phone rings. It's V. Conversation is as follows.

V: What are you doing
me: Getting ready to do some writing. What are you doing?
V: Nothing. Wanna hang out?
me: Sure. What are we going to do?
V: (awkward pause) Uhh, I don't know. What do you feel like doing?
me: I don't know. What should we do?
V: Wanna just start drinking?
me: Sounds perfect. Why did we even have the conversation that questioned what we were going to do? Do we ever do anything else?
V: I don't know! It stressed me out though. Like I had to figure out something for us to actually do!

And so the drinking ensued. From about 1400 until 2130. It was fantastic.

In the mean time I have reclaimed a fantastic love for some of my front end coworkers. I wish that they worked Wednesday through Saturday with me instead of Sunday through Wednesday, but these are the trials of my life. ANYHOO...So on Friday night I met up with my front end friends: MyfriendL (here on out referred to as MFL), MyfriendR (MFR), and MyfriendS (MFS). It was the best time of my life. I cannot put into words how much I adore each of them. It was this night of Fantastical Fantasticism that led me to decide that I was going to marry MFS and exploit his brilliance then live independently wealthy for the rest of my glorious days. So today as V and I started our drinking I sent MFS a text message informing him of my plan. And so it begins.

V and I decide to migrate downtown. We cross the bridge. We intend to do normal things like shop and walk around. We end up at a bar. We call A and tell her and her husband A to meet us. I send MFS a text and tell him to giddyup. Shortly after V and my party of two becomes a party of 6. Well 7, but the crazy guy I haven't seen in 10 years that I randomly run into at a fucking bar on Sunday afternoon in Downtown Big City finally left. Anyways. We are all gathered around our table reminiscing about, horrifically traumatizing to outsiders, but equally hysterically funny to us, work stories (about 15 minutes of our uproarious laughter and conversation was centered around the words "pussy juice", which I might add gathered a plethora of baffled and disgusted looks from neighboring tables). So we talked about coloring vaginas blue, smearing blood and feces, psychotic involuntary movement, and a boy who loves nachos. My face hurt so bad from laughing.

Throughout the stories MFS and I did managed to have crucial conversations regarding our possible union. As it stands now I need to convert to another faith. Meh. I also should be ready to bear, roughly, 6 children (more if they do not meet up to our standards of aesthetics). Fine. Also our wedding will be held at the Explorer Club in NY with an outdoor reception in, maybe, Connecticut. I do believe that I am okay with this. He agreed that I will wear the pretty dress that I want and he has also agreed to buy me the pretty ring that I want. Of course with the salary that we both currently maintain we may have to do without luxuries such as: vehicle, gas, shelter and possibly food, in order for me to have my ring, but I I'm definitely okay with that. It won't be too long until I have shamelessly exploited him and then have wealth to share. I'm not too worried. He comes from a family of Lawyers. Perfect, my mom's in jail! We have legal things in common! Also it's an added bonus, about my mom, because then he doesn't have to deal with a crazy mother in law.

Conversations wind up and down and as the evening draws to a close I request that when MFS does the actual proposal that he do it in Pretend Talk Show Host style (Something that MFS does with the clients that I can do NO justice whatsoever to explain in print...you just have to see it) when he states that he thought I was the one that actually proposed in our relationship and that he is now considering the proposal. He's taking some time to think it over and hasn't given me an answer yet.

....**Proverbial Record Scratch and Crickets chirping**....

What. You have to think about it? Are you kidding? I told him my feeling was hurt (yes I have just one) he seemed not the least bit phased, but told me he should be sure he's making a solid decision since it is a large one to make. I told him that I'm the only one anyone needs; there's no question. We laugh. We say goodnight. He goes his way, myself, V and R (V's girlfriend) go ours.

My Oratory for the walk to the car is as follows:

Clearly he hasn't had the privilege of all that is me. Once one has had that allowance then he need not ever question whether or not I am the right decision to make. The correct answer to one's thought would be how could I live without her for even one more day? THAT is how it is. Duh.


I love drunken proposals and made up wedding scenarios. They make life grand. I equally love those who play along with the elaborate theatricals that go with it. This is why I love my friends.

Hopefully I'll have more to write soon. Until then,

s.