To rectify my gratuitous use of the words barf and vomit in my recent posts, I shall tell this story:
Ten years ago Michael and I spent our first Valentine's Day together. I went with friends to a university basketball game where he found me, sat by me and invited me to make sugar cookies at midnight (no, that is not a euphemism for something else, that is really what we did) with him at his house.
The night before there had been a girl's choice dance at the university. Michael had attended with some freshman hussy who had the audacity to ask him out. He said he was hoping I would have asked him, and I was hoping he would have said no the hussy and taken me to a movie instead. I'm not a big fan of girl's choice. My inner liberated woman still has that one hang-up. Apparently he was still playing the field and man, was I ever bugged about it.
3 comments:
BARF! VOMIT! Too cheesy for me!
OK! I confess! I ate Valentine chocolates too! I thought I would be in the clear now, but they have already put out the Easter candy. I think the candy people are cursing us with their year round chocolate! HELP!
I did not, I repeat, DID NOT eat any valentine candy. If I recall correctly I was crying and thinking of way to plot a way to bomb my previous employement without hurting any people and to get away with it. So since I could not figure that one out, I just sat at home and cried and drank Diet Pepsi, Caffeine Free of course.
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