9/29/2006

Snippets of Life

"Baby puppy!" I yelled, as I barreled in through the door. The fur ball that greeted me was much bigger than the one I remembered leaving a few weeks before. His whole back end was wagging with excitement as he bounded around my feet, alternately licking my toes and the floor. I dropped what I was carrying (read: the cat) and swept up the puppy in my arms. He immediately licked my face, and then proceeded to bite my nose. "Ow!" I exclaimed.
"Love hurts." my mother said, patting my back and taking the puppy from my arms.
September 20th, 10:32 PM

Just once in my life I would like to feel like the center of the universe. I want to feel like nothing I do is wrong.
How did I get here? Where exactly did my life veer off the path I'd always seen ahead of myself. When did I become this person I am today? How did this happen? How did all this happen? Where did all those people go, the ones I was so sure of, the ones I thought would be in my life forever? Where are they now? When did we drift so far apart? When did they become anything less than intrinsic to my existence? When did I become so unsure of things? When did I become so unsure of myself?
September 21st, 1:03 AM

I am the antithesis of sexy. With my nose bright red, and my nostrils glistening with just a hint of snot, I lay across the bed and try to look seductive. A few scented candles are lit, and used tissues are scattered about the room. I am trying to create a certain atmosphere. I call it "the sickly brothel". Just as I am about to speak, I begin to cough so hard that my eyes tear up and I can barely breathe.
"Are you okay?" He asks, moving to my side and smoothing my hair away from my face. I nod, still trying expel a lung from my body, and wave him off. Earlier in the day, I had decided to photograph and catalogue everything that came out of my lungs. I don't tell him that, of course. I don't want to spoil the mood. I make a mental note to break out the camera as soon as he leaves. When my fit subsides, I look deeply into his eyes and proceed to fight for my cause.
"Baby," I sigh. "I'm not that sick. Really." If my words didn't sound so rough and nasally, I might even believe what I was saying.
"You look sick, and you just called me 'Baby'. You are, at the very least, feverish." It's true. I don't do pet names.
"It is so cold." I say, trying a new tactic. "Why don't we get under the covers and try to generate some body heat." I say suggestively, and then add a wink. And that is when I realize that I have sunk to a new low.
September 25th, 10:43 PM

"I feel like I should say something profound every time we say goodbye." I say into his shoulder. "It's hard to do though because I am always the one who is leaving. In order for it to work properly, you need to be walking away from me." Sometimes I think I could live forever nestled in between his arms.
September 26th, 12:16 PM

My dog snores. Loudly. I think he may also suffer from sleep apnea. And every so often, just for good measure, he starts barking. All in his sleep. It could be worse, I tell myself. He could be gassy too. But, luckily, the dog seems to save his gas these days for trips to my parents house. The president, on the other hand, totally farted while sleeping on my bed yesterday. I had never heard a cat fart before, and I think it was something that I could have lived the rest of my life without experiencing.
September 28th, 3:52 AM

9/23/2006

But that's probably just because I am a bad person

I have been blowing my nose non-stop, it would seem. And each time, after I blow my nose, for some inexplicable reason, I look at the tissues to see what exactly has come out of my nose. I've been expecting a small elephant, or, at the very least, a pea or something. I don't recall ever having stuck peas up my nose (or an elephant for that matter), but that doesn't mean someone couldn't have stuck something up there while I was sleeping. I know that I would probably try to stick peas up someone's nose while they were sleeping if peas were readily available to me at that exact moment.

9/20/2006

Things to do on a Monday night

Pelvis thrust out in front of him, we all sat quietly staring at the male pornstar on the television.
"He was married for four years? I feel sorry for his wife." one of us said.
"He has a kid, too. That baby probably walked out of her vagina. She probably sighed with relief and said 'Is that it? I thought it would be bigger.'" someone else joked.
It was 43 minutes of rumination in regards to all things pornographic. And nudity. It was definitely 43 minutes of nudity.
It taught us many new words, such as fucktify, and entertained us with endless amusing, quotable phrases (i.e. "I had porn fever!"). In the days following, we would interject these beautiful quotes into our every day lives.
"Everyone fucks somebody to get ahead in this world." I would tell them. "I just do it on film."

9/18/2006

Habit forming

Once, every four months or so, I rifle through my underwear drawer in search of an intoxicating, little, rectangular box that holds in it symbolic cylinders of rebellion. I pull one out, scan the room for some matches, and then find a place outside where I am all by myself before partaking in my secret indulgence.
Each puff makes my head spin and my shoulders sag in what can only be described as near-euphoria. I only take a handful of drags before smashing the end of the cigarette into the ground, and smothering the embers that glow on its tip.
Though it doesn't make sense, after I am done, I breath just a little bit easier. My chest loosens up and all is suddenly right with the world. And so begins the post-cigarette-procedure. I strip off my clothes and hop in the shower; washing my hair and shaving my legs, rinsing all evidence of sin from my skin. After the shower, I blow my nose and brush my teeth, then gargle with mouthwash. My clothes are then immediately taken to the washing machine, and life goes on as if nothing was any different. And, really, nothing is any different.
I could attribute this whole process to my disdain for the smell of stale smoke on clothes, especially on my own clothes, but, deep down, I think it's psychological.

9/16/2006

I heard the Hamburgler is, too

Two girls, around ten or eleven years in age, are climbing all over the fiber glass Ronald McDonald that permanently sits on one of the many benches at Walmart. "I will tell you one thing," one girl says to the other. "Ronald is a good ride." I close my eyes and bite my lips.
"Did she just say what I think she said?" a friend asks me.
"Mmm hmmm" I hum in confirmation.
Eventually, it is too much for me to bear and I laugh so hard that tears begin to stream down my face.
"We are so dirty." my friend manages to say, in between giggle fits.

9/02/2006

Weddings are awesome

The Good Times Fishing and Hunting Club is ripe with the smell of pot. A woman in her late fifties, whom I have never seen before in my life, cries at the indignity of my parents' decision to cut my sister off after she'd fallen up a small set of stairs in her haste to get to the dance floor. "Megan! Megan!" the lady cries. "Megan! I saw that step jump out at her! There was nothing she could have done!" she explains. All I can do is nod in agreement and wonder how she knows my name.
My second cousin looks like he belongs in ZZ Top - only the British version (whatever that means). He sits at our table discussing the complexities of the universe, or maybe he is just talking about nearly forgetting to walk his daughter down the aisle. I am too drunk to pay attention to any one conversation for more than a few minutes. By this point in time I have imbibed enough cheap sparkling wine for three people and show no sign of stopping any time soon. I stare at the centerpiece on the table, a live Siamese Fighting Fish swimming in a small bowl, and silently debate the pros and cons of getting up to go use the washroom.
Suddenly, I am pushed and pulled up the small set of stairs and to a clearing in the middle of the dance floor. My sister stands next to me, bracing one arm against a table to ensure she remains standing. "Everybody be quiet!" Someone yells, "The bride is about to toss her bouquet." Oh. So that is what I am doing here. There are six of us in total, and I am by far the tallest. Before I even have time to blink, let alone move, it is over and my thirteen-year-old cousin has come out the victor, broken arm be damned. I guess I will not get married this year.
"Oh no!" my sister cries. "We are going to be single forever!" And she disappears back down the stairs in search of my parents to break the news to them.
A small chocolate fountain sits proudly in the middle of a small buffet table. Earlier on in the evening, the chocolate had flowed smoothly from one tier to another. Now it falls in giant glops, when it decides to fall at all. My parents must notice this too because they suddenly decide that it is time to pack us all up and take us home. Before leaving, we all scoop up a fish-centerpiece to take home with us.
Later on, in the car, we are all yelling. "Coco Chanel is a girl's name!" my sister exclaims. "You cannot name your fish Coco Chanel because he is a boy."
"I do not let stereotypical gender roles dictate my life, nor the life of Coco Chanel. Coco Chanel is free to be who he wants to be and free to love whoever he wants to love. I will not let a group of elderly, sexually repressed people decide what is right or wrong for Coco Chanel. Do you hear that Coco Chanel?" I slur, tapping the glass vase in which my prized fish swims, oblivious to the battle taking place outside of his few inches of water.
I wake-up this morning and briefly wonder why there is a fish bowl sitting on top of my dresser. It only takes me a few seconds before I remember the events of the night before. I smile at Coco Channel and tell him that we will be life long friends before I make my way out of my bedroom to start my day.

9/01/2006

I love you too

There are few times in your life when the magnitude of a friendship is given the opportunity to overwhelm you. I’ve experienced three in my life. A shoulder to cry on in a time of crisis, a surprise I never saw coming, and this, an email:
Hi meegan,
Im just wondering if your free tomorrow(Friday), and if you are im wondering if you would like to help me move?
Let me know either way, if its a yes, ill give you head and if's its a no, you still get head but i may or may not try.
Talk to you later,
Rob

It may seem unimportant, silly even, hardly life changing. It is though. It is the small things that are most meaningful, not the grand gestures or the grand declarations. It’s the things that we realize we’ve taken for granted all along when they’re suddenly not there anymore.
I’ve taken you granted before, and I will surely take you for granted again, but I want you to know that right now I know exactly how lucky I am to have you in my life. Especially because of your false promises to perform oral sex on me even if I don’t help you move.