Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Sometimes you have to stop and appreciate the weirdness.

I got to thinking today. (I'll pause for a moment while you collect yourself from the shock)

I sent this email to Rose this morning.

"Good morning!

What have you been up to? Anything thrilling? Nothing much going on here. The point of the email is to tell you two things: ( I know you are a busy woman so I broke this down into numbered paragraphs just in case you have to read this in shifts)

1) ( possibly most important) I would like to include you in a routine that you, me , and Alicia started. Soak in Hot tub followed by swimming. Yesterday I went to Alicia's and true to our routine (est. Last weekend) we drank your Wild Vines (sorry, I'll totally give you a buck fifty) and we got in the hot tub and then swam 18 laps in the pool. Sure we nearly drowned and there were a couple of creepy by standers (I'm sure wondering how their Easter Ham learned to swim). But it was a good work out. And I thought you would like to come and join the festivities. We will be going again tonight.


2) (possibly the lamest thing maybe the second lamest thing ever, the first being my love life) John sent me an email today. He invited me to a kegger that he is having at his house while his parents are gone. Seriously, he is 25. He still lives at home AND he is hosting house parties, that I'd bet dollars to doughnuts involve keg stands. So lame. The lameness is just unfathomable. I was almost rendered speechless by the level of lame. Just to be clear.... He. Is. Lame.

::sigh:: better get back to work.


After hitting "send" I paused and thought for a second.

First I thought about how I got to the point where I am now so buoyant in water that drowning is close to impossible. Yes that would be an advantage if I'm ever on a sinking cruise ship. But not so helpful when trying on jeans. My ass and the broad side of a barn are virtually indistinguishable if you squint your eyes.

The second thing I thought what point does living with your parents change from an economical choice to being an immature momma's boy? If I had to venture a guess I would say 24 and a half years old. For no particular reason other than it just feels like the level of loser increases on the 25th birthday. John and I dated when he was 21 and I was 23 he had just moved from the East Coast. But that (like most of my relationships) crashed and burned in big, dramatic, expletive slinging public scenes. Although every once in a while he sends me an unexpected email or calls out of the blue. I think its his way of reminding me why we never married and had children...or you know, went on a third date.

That is all, carry on.