Type title here in Normal entries
- June 21, 2014, 5:28 p.m.
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- Public
Rarely am I at a loss for words, though, I believe, I’ve launched many a filibusting oration with that very phrase. Ok, that’s a clumsy sentence; I’ve been self-conscious of starting off anything with any version, derivation or hint of “I”. The sentence would have been a lot less clumsy, say, for instance, thusly; I’m at a loss. Heh. I totally said thusly and no one even snorted (except the queen, but I always make her snort).
There was this sort of almost a date thingy, female doo-hickey, I was hanging out with in hopes of doing that whole hetro-sexual thing about four years back or so. I don’t recall if I mentioned her nickname in a journal or just in conversation. I called her Ann Thusly because that’s how she wrote (the ellipses are silent but I swear to sweet swaddlin’ Jesus she couldn’t even write a grocery list without working in … and, thusly …) She was really pretty. I’m not saying her knees were superglued together, just that whatever glue was used I obviously didn’t have the solvent. To be fair I didn’t try very hard. To be fair in the other direction I’ve never been any good at that sort of thing.
I mean like everyone else I think I’m great at closing the deal, I’m certainly charming enough to start the deal, I get all fuzzy at the in-between, and, again, I wasn’t trying very hard.
Two things bring her to mind today --- I found something I had written a year or so back, something snarky. She lost her shitty little job and had to move back to Myrtle Beach and was having a I-miss-Oregon-Already … and thusly … sort of hissy fit and I politely asked to be removed from her mailing list and might have suggested she was a bratty bitch faced Ann Thusly poop pile, and all things being equal, which they are not and were not, Myrtle Beach and living with rich relations is a far cry from Lansing to watch your folks die. Mostly I politely suggested she take me off her fucking mailing list.
The other reason is much more personal and beautiful and I’m going to much more vague about it. Every romance, marriage, dalliance and distraction of my life has just been a practice run, a dress rehearsal for where I am now, where I’ve been now. Yes, I was and am infatuated, yes I was and am in lust, but I am and was profoundly and goofy (hmmm, goofily?) in love. Might you ask why today? No, I mean yes, you might, but it won’t do you any good. The best answer you’ll get is because today I felt let letting that little bit slip. I’ve been private out of respect and will remain so. See? Smitten.
Oh and my shoulder is killing me.