Bethany, Ashley and I are going to Minnesota today. BY OURSELVES. Needless to say, I'm scared out of my mind. Think of all the things that could go wrong! We could get in a car accident (it's much more likely that Bethany's GPS will lead us to a black hole in the center of the state), we could be murdered by vicious Minnesotans, terrorists could decide to blow up the Mall of America while we're there... Worst of all, I wouldn't have said good-bye to Evan! I wrote him a letter, but I'm all out of envelopes and stamps. My dad has my car today, so I can't go buy any of the letter-sending necessities.
Imagine how terrible he will feel if I die while he's away. He hasn't seen me for five weeks, and then he would never see me again. At least he wouldn't feel responsible. I can't think of a single way that he could feel that me having my throat slit by Ashley's grandma (who we are staying with) is his fault. Guess he'll get over my inevitable death eventually. Maybe he'll be relieved to escape my evil, loving caresses.
While we're in Minnesota, we'll be going to Music Man, the Mall of America, the Spam Museum (what the heck is that?), and the Mayo Clinic (pffft). I am bringing $459 with me, just because I can (being employed is great!). I'm going to buy my brother, Jace, a treat, which I will only give to him if he successfully keeps Lieutenant Prurient alive while I'm away. Hopefully I'll spend way too much on something related to an anime I love. A giant stuffed Kon, perhaps? I doubt I'll find one, but it's nice to dream. I can at least buy some CDs at the FYE that the mall must have. I would also like some really, really, REALLY high socks. Maybe a swimsuit, too, since I don't actually own one.
I wonder if we'll even enjoy ourselves? Even though we're best friends, we often hate each other quite passionately. The last time I stayed with Ashley for more than one night, I was ready to rip her throat out. I'm sure the feeling was mutual. But a whole week with them? Sheesh. Bethany's refusing to spend any money, so I'm worried that she's going to be upset, and if she is, we won't be able to have any fun. I'm sure I'll be quite the fun-sucker, too. I've been known to complain incessantly. I'll probably moan and groan about not being able to check my Pokefarm (there's no internet at Ashley's grandma's), and I'll whine about not getting letters from Evan.
The amusement park at the Mall of America is no longer an option, since Bethany said, "If you go on the rides, I'll just sit on a bench while you have fun." I don't especially want Bethany to get kidnapped and raped in a bathroom somewhere, so I'm not going on the rides, either (though I would really like to).
My walls are lookin' pretty bare... I think I need some more Pokemon posters. A Bleach poster or two would be nice, too. Maybe Soul Eater as well? I'll have to look for some!
We leave in an hour and a half. NERVES, NERVES. I'm scaaared. Even if Ashley's a good driver, we don't know what the hell we're doing. GPS systems are notorious for being completely inaccurate, so I have a hunch that we're going to get lost and have to sleep in Ashley's car. Urk.
Well, if I die, I'm sure Evan will check my blog eventually, so here:
I DIDN'T MEAN TO DIE. PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I HOPE TO BE REINCARNATED AS A WALRUS. Love ya, soldier.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Excessive Worrying: Evan's a Killing Machine!
This summer hasn't been so bad. It is going by both quickly and incredibly slowly. I would say that the days are long, but the weeks are short (is that a song lyric?). I usually get one or two letters from Evan a week. He has only been able to call me twice in... five weeks? Or is it four?
He called me today. When I picked up the phone, I expected a, "Hello, is Yo-say Haynes available?" or, "Is Lily Haynes there?" I expected to snap, "No, and it's Josie/Lyle HAN-NES." I pick up every strange number that calls my house now, in hopes of getting Evan, and they're usually telemarketers. But this time, an uncertain, familiar voice asked for Dani, and my heart skipped a beat! Evaaan!
It was hard to talk to him, since we kept accidentally interrupting each other and I kept stumbling over my words. The phone he was using wasn't very good, either, so I had trouble hearing him. But it was him, and that was enough to get my eyes a-waterin' (the sniffling didn't help to make our conversation any easier). In response to a letter I sent him, he assured me that I can still wear the pants in our relationship when he comes home, and that I can still take care of him. It still seems strange to me, though. He knows how to shoot guns. He's a killing machine now! Won't it be weird to hold the head of a killing machine on my lap? I can't imagine running my fingers through the hair of a man that has thrown grenades. Do I want to make dinner for a man that could easily blow my brains all over the kitchen walls?
Evan has assured me, over and over again, that he will still be my nerdy Evan when he comes back. He still likes Totoro, even if he is a fluffy bunny thing. To motivate himself to run during PT, he thinks a remixed version of the Lucky Star theme. He hasn't changed yet, but what if he does? He's going to be all muscled and sexy and confident when he comes home. What if he gets an ego? What if he dumps me because I've got a double chin? Oh, god!
I just need to stay confident. Show him who's boss, Dani! Send him letters exclaiming that I can beat him at Thumb War (I can't) and that I will always win during bouts of impromptu wrestling (I've never). I bet most people would like my mac and cheese more than they like his mac and cheese soup. He's a wimp when it comes to getting wet, whereas I'm willing to jump into a pool while still fully-clothed.
It just occurred to me: will he get freckles from running around in the sun so much? He was starting to get them around his eyes before he left... Mmmf, Evan with freckles. I'll melt all over. And those big, dorky glasses he has to wear? I have a nerd fetish. Oh, man. I wish I could see him now. I would gobble him right up.
This brings me to another worry of mine: will I forget how to interact with him? Will I forget how to kiss, how to snuggle, etc.? Will we fall back into our old habit of never meeting eye contact, awkwardly looking away from each other all the time? Will holding hands become a terrifying experience? What were these last sixteen months for if we're just going to act like a new couple all over again?
What if our reunion is awful? We've both been dreamin' up different scenarios where we meet each other and the most romantic scene ensues. I walk into my house, only to find him standing in my family room. The sun is somehow glistening off our hair, even though we're inside. I gasp and run toward him in slow-mo, tears streaming from my face, and we exchange the sweetest, gentlest of kisses.
What will probably happen: I see his car in my driveway while on my way back from work. He has been there for too long, not knowing where I was or if I would return home before marching band. I park my car, and sit in it for several minutes of unadulterated panic before finally crawling out to greet him. He's standing awkwardly by his car. This is where I either stand several feet away from him, not sure what he wants, or I rush toward him and end up smacking my forehead into his, knocking him unconscious. Or I try to kiss him and end up biting his lip something awful, like I did when I was first learning how to kiss. Or maybe he'll have the saddest look on his face and say, "Dani, I should have done this earlier, but... I think we should see other people." I will drop to the ground and sob while he casually drives away.
What I'm trying to say is: I love that bitch. Whore better stay how he is, and stay with me for a little while longer.
He called me today. When I picked up the phone, I expected a, "Hello, is Yo-say Haynes available?" or, "Is Lily Haynes there?" I expected to snap, "No, and it's Josie/Lyle HAN-NES." I pick up every strange number that calls my house now, in hopes of getting Evan, and they're usually telemarketers. But this time, an uncertain, familiar voice asked for Dani, and my heart skipped a beat! Evaaan!
It was hard to talk to him, since we kept accidentally interrupting each other and I kept stumbling over my words. The phone he was using wasn't very good, either, so I had trouble hearing him. But it was him, and that was enough to get my eyes a-waterin' (the sniffling didn't help to make our conversation any easier). In response to a letter I sent him, he assured me that I can still wear the pants in our relationship when he comes home, and that I can still take care of him. It still seems strange to me, though. He knows how to shoot guns. He's a killing machine now! Won't it be weird to hold the head of a killing machine on my lap? I can't imagine running my fingers through the hair of a man that has thrown grenades. Do I want to make dinner for a man that could easily blow my brains all over the kitchen walls?
Evan has assured me, over and over again, that he will still be my nerdy Evan when he comes back. He still likes Totoro, even if he is a fluffy bunny thing. To motivate himself to run during PT, he thinks a remixed version of the Lucky Star theme. He hasn't changed yet, but what if he does? He's going to be all muscled and sexy and confident when he comes home. What if he gets an ego? What if he dumps me because I've got a double chin? Oh, god!
I just need to stay confident. Show him who's boss, Dani! Send him letters exclaiming that I can beat him at Thumb War (I can't) and that I will always win during bouts of impromptu wrestling (I've never). I bet most people would like my mac and cheese more than they like his mac and cheese soup. He's a wimp when it comes to getting wet, whereas I'm willing to jump into a pool while still fully-clothed.
It just occurred to me: will he get freckles from running around in the sun so much? He was starting to get them around his eyes before he left... Mmmf, Evan with freckles. I'll melt all over. And those big, dorky glasses he has to wear? I have a nerd fetish. Oh, man. I wish I could see him now. I would gobble him right up.
This brings me to another worry of mine: will I forget how to interact with him? Will I forget how to kiss, how to snuggle, etc.? Will we fall back into our old habit of never meeting eye contact, awkwardly looking away from each other all the time? Will holding hands become a terrifying experience? What were these last sixteen months for if we're just going to act like a new couple all over again?
What if our reunion is awful? We've both been dreamin' up different scenarios where we meet each other and the most romantic scene ensues. I walk into my house, only to find him standing in my family room. The sun is somehow glistening off our hair, even though we're inside. I gasp and run toward him in slow-mo, tears streaming from my face, and we exchange the sweetest, gentlest of kisses.
What will probably happen: I see his car in my driveway while on my way back from work. He has been there for too long, not knowing where I was or if I would return home before marching band. I park my car, and sit in it for several minutes of unadulterated panic before finally crawling out to greet him. He's standing awkwardly by his car. This is where I either stand several feet away from him, not sure what he wants, or I rush toward him and end up smacking my forehead into his, knocking him unconscious. Or I try to kiss him and end up biting his lip something awful, like I did when I was first learning how to kiss. Or maybe he'll have the saddest look on his face and say, "Dani, I should have done this earlier, but... I think we should see other people." I will drop to the ground and sob while he casually drives away.
What I'm trying to say is: I love that bitch. Whore better stay how he is, and stay with me for a little while longer.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
In Remembrance of a Goddamn Fucking Friend
fuck.
you just don't find healthy soldiers like General Libido and Dictator Cadaverous anymore, do you?
Corporal Jackson has died, possibly from the inhalation of a dangerous gas (flea bombin'). his scales went from black to gold in less than twelve hours, and he was found belly-up in the afternoon.
i hope that his death brings the downfall of the military base that he was named after.
Lieutenant Prurient has taken the Corporal's place on the nightstand. a replacement goldfish is not scheduled to move into the fishbowl.
you just don't find healthy soldiers like General Libido and Dictator Cadaverous anymore, do you?
Corporal Jackson has died, possibly from the inhalation of a dangerous gas (flea bombin'). his scales went from black to gold in less than twelve hours, and he was found belly-up in the afternoon.
i hope that his death brings the downfall of the military base that he was named after.
Lieutenant Prurient has taken the Corporal's place on the nightstand. a replacement goldfish is not scheduled to move into the fishbowl.
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