so unimpressed with the BOYS that hang out in Lincoln Park. seriously, if i haven’t said it before, i’ll say it now: SO GLAD that i found a normal, grown man to date in this city so i don’t even have to deal with it.
it began last night at the bachelorette party (which was fantastic btw). okay, i get it, it’s expected that at some point we’ll get approached because we are wearing pink satin pageant banners and glow in the dark candy necklaces, etc etc. however,bros were literally just coming up to the table calling us “hot pants”, going on for just about forever on why the bride would ever want to married, and making really awkward statements about the bride’s sister’s pregnancy. thinking this will get them laid.
final straw was when walking into the next bar, these…these Boys…are literally rating our party as we are walking in. predictably, when i was a definite “yes”, i turned my ass around and got all sassy with a “bitch, you couldn’t handle.”
into the 2nd day of the MI trip with Ang and I swear to God, his friend reminds me of my ex in sooo many ways. mostly in mannerisms but oh my god there are So Many of them. and they are all the ones which made me realize that it just wasn’t going to work out with us and the whole break-up thereafter kind of felt like i had miraculously avoided a landmine.
the whole current experience is like a really awkward dream where i’m hanging out with two people i am dating/used to date and i am the only one in on the ‘secret’. i want to get away but the guy’s apartment isn’t near anything walking distance because we are in the middle of michigan and oh my god.
totally pissy right now. my totally gorgeous ass-stomping booties i was all about the other day arrived and are too small. i’m trolling to the ends of the internet and can’t find a damn thing in a size 11 that isn’t fugly as hell. I hate everything and everyone. about ready to go drain my bank account on a pair of fluevogs and forget the whole thing. bloody hell.
i had a dream last night that i had to go back in time to beat the living hell out of david bowie in the '70s because he had cheated on one of my best girlfriends with a shit-ton of groupies. he was also gap-toothed and 40 pounds overweight. then fast forward to this year's lollapalooza and i meet up with him and am all like, 'oh bowie it's okay, sorry man, i didn't mean to get all crazy bitch on you 30 years back. wanna dance?" so we boogie and everyone is like, 'wow cool, how does meg know david bowie?' but i have this knowing grin on my face because i know that while we had history, bowie and me are totally cool now in the present.
bowie was SO fug as the fat gap-toothed kid. no ziggy stardust, that’s for sure.
we have had a lot of good times. you have been there to participate in my infinite amount of illegally downloaded party music, shocking life-changing ichats, countless hours of facebooking and so on so forth. we have been together since freshman year at ball state and travelled to such far off places as london, paris, budapest, and self-made chair beds in the ball state bracken library. we have gotten katt williams level high in amsterdam and captured plenty of both appropriate and inappropriate pictures together. you were there for all the last minute papers, projects, and unholy amount of rejected online job applications. when i was so poor i couldnt rub two dimes together, you served as my tv, my communication device, and my game system for tetris and super mario bros. 3.
it feels almost like a betrayal to replace you with a newish laptop (that is a PC no less), but we all know that you are most certainly in your golden years with your persnickety rainbow of death and mind-numbingly slow video loading skills. our 8 (8?! holy shit time flies…) year relationship has been fun, buddy, i’ll never forget.