The other day I was trying to pinpoint the real difference in my life now that I’m all coupled up and stuff. I have decided that it is this:
I now pull my hair out of the shower drain after I wash my hair.
This might not seem like much to you, but keep in mind that my hair likes to dred, especially when wet. A bit of my hair in the drain quickly snarls itself up into twice its original size and turns into this:
No one wants to live with shower tribbles.
I just discovered my face mask has salvia in it. (I get bored while I’m waiting for it to refine my pores, and wind up reading the ingredients.)
Can that be right? Should I be concerned?
I am covered with bug bites.
This wouldn’t be so bad, but a couple months ago, we had a bedbug scare at Casa de Hub-Luck, and so every time I get a bite of any kind, I’m totally sure we’re infested.
Fortunately, I have many friends on the internets. Using Ms. Caryn Solly’s bedbugs FAQ, I was able to figure out that we are Bb-free. (Specifically, my bites have centers. I never thought I’d be so glad to see skeeter-bug scars on my pretty pretty legs.)
We do, however, have window screens made of swiss cheese.
I swear, if Sgt Lucky ever gets tired of my pinko rhetoric and snoring, I will become a nun. Because dating? Just plain sucks.
I’ve been talking to a lot of friends lately who are still on the Wheel of Dicks, and it ain’t pretty.
In the old days, I’d use this space to tell you all about how my friends are suffering, but I have developed discretion in my old age, so instead I will just tell you about some of the horrifying experiences I had before I hung up my Match.com membership.
I have dated:
1) A man who still lived with his “ex” girlfriend. It honestly didn’t occur to me how weird that was until after we broke up. I woke up in the middle of the night some weeks later, laughing hysterically, because I realized that, in fact, I had never even seen his apartment. And yet I thought we were dating. I am rad.
2) A man who watched cartoons first thing in the morning, just like normal people do when they’re, say, ten years old. Our relationship consisted of him beating me at Guitar Hero and me resisting his efforts to convince me to get swallows tattooed over my boobs.
3) A bunch of vague, half-remembered dudes with loose conceptions of fidelity that together comprise an amalgam I’ve invented for convenience: I call him Big Cheaty Voltron, and if you think you want more details, well, you don’t.
I talked to a friend of mine this morning who was going through a situation with her latest spoke, and afterward, I decided that I should really tell Sgt Lucky how much I appreciate him.
“If you ever leave me,” I said. “I will become a nun.”
He was rearranging things in the closet at the time, which is an extremely absorbing activity, but he tore himself away long enough to look at me in amusement. “No, you won’t.”
“I will.”
“You won’t.”
“No, I will, cuz I don’t even like anyone but you, so there.”
He thought about this for a moment. “Well. You like some people.”
“Well, some people, sure.”
Still. My point is, I like things better this way. And for those of you who are dealing with this crap right now, all I can say is, I promise it gets better. I know, people used to tell me this and I didn’t believe them, but there is someone dying to make fun of you while he reorganizes a closet. He is out there right now. You just need to meet him.
Sgt Lucky: Who’s that on your shirt?
Me: David Bowie.
Sgt Lucky: Oh, I thought it was Madonna.
Me: …
One of my greatest regrets in life is that the Weekly World News shut down before I got the chance to write for them. I’m especially sorry that I didn’t get a chance to use my crack reporting skillz to uncover more information about my beloved Bat Boy.
A few things you might not know, which I will now share with you:
1) Bat Boy has endorsed Al Gore, John McCain, and Barack Obama. (He changed his mind.)
2) Bat Boy had his own musical. He’s been referenced in the film Twelve Monkeys and in an episode of Roseanne.
3) Your rules do not apply to Bat Boy. He has, as Wikipedia points out: “a chaotic sense of morality. He has been said to steal cars and not to come to the aid of the needy.”
4) Bat Boy’s only friend is Dr. Ron Dillon. Dr. D found him in the Lost World Caverns of West Virginia, and apparently took a shine to him. (True love doesn’t care about GTA.)
5) Bat Boy is roughly two feet tall, weighs 19 pounds, and sheds his wings every three years. (No worries. He grows a new pair every year.)
(Note: While I was writing this, I discovered that the Weekly World News still exists – on the interwebs. If you miss Bat Boy as much as I do, you can keep an eye out for him on WWN’s online presence.)
