A Boy Made Me Do It

I woke up from a coma today.
Yeah, another life coma. Believe it.

Man I seriously need health insurance. Gotta get those things checked out.

I'm pretty sure it's like one life coma per year is healthy. I mean NOT healthy, but do able. (And no, that's not what she said, Will!! Jeez. She isn't nearly as slutty as people make her out to be. And she is pretty tired of being referenced all the time.Okay? So just drop it)

But honestly, I am 24 years old now. I swear it was yesterday that I was having the shittiest twenty first birthday ever.
And just a few weeks ago I was angst ridden and West Coast bound...

I never really listened to old people when they have told me about how fast life goes and you don't realize it, so enjoy it blah blah blah.

All I can think about with old people is how in nursing school I was told we weren't allowed to call them cute.....Under any circumstance!

Yet, still no memo on calling the short 24 year old cute. I still have to endure this shit. Just cuz I'm fun sized doesn't mean I...Holy crap I'm gonna be old one day! I just fucking figured that out! ( and I will be freaking cute then too, I'm sure of it.)
So maybe as long as I keep surrounding myself with older men. (NOT a problem for this girl) then I will never feel quite as old as them! Yay. Genius plan.

Back to birthdays. This year. Thank God for Florida. I mean we don't have to get all biblical here because it is just Florida I'm talking about. But someone may have been missing a toe or twelve if I didn't go to Cocoa Beach for 5 days before my birthday. (Thank you best friend.)

Quickly I will explain. (quickly, only because I am convinced anyone who is reading this has better things to do and is always waiting for me to get to the point. Where you can then exclaim immediate judgment upon me... "Hysterical!" or "Genius!" or "You're hot I want to date you!"... wait you couldn't possibly get all that from a blog post... unless. No never mind.)

I like birthdays. You wouldn't know about my annual birthday countdown because I have been effing lazy this year and felt no need to make you endure the 3 months of counting down until I was twenty..whatever the hell age I am.

But in my head and to the people around me, my birthday is the shit. This is when I go crazy. I make big plans and I intend to live on a grand scale for just a day. (I'm lying to you, I get a birthday week, or two. The one leading up to and the one following. Deal with it.) I invite anyone to come join in the festivities and this year.

My awesome idea was...

Atlantic City.

Seriously, I was excited. Many people tried to talk me out of my excitement. They would say.."it'll underwhelm you" "do you guys ALL really want to gamble?" "the strip club on 12th is the place you should..." Well whatever they said. There was many a person who apparently have clairvoyant abilities and tried to tell me.

I ignored them all. I had 7 other people drive up and stay in a horrendous pube filled hotel. (according to Sonny, they're nutritional, but don't take his word for it.Stay away kids)

7 of us have NEVER been there before. The one who has, was days away from getting married. So what he remembers is pretty much not valid. (Except that strip club he was telling us about.)

Let me fast forward and tell you how the night ended and my actual birth day began.
With me slamming the hotel door yelling " GO F*!% YOURSELF" and then I went back into my room and my best friend sang happy birthday and gave me my annual lemon cake.

The in between was all whining and complaining about losing 20 dollars in one WHOLE hour. And lots of drunken antics, and no real big winners to speak of...

So yeah icksnay on the ewNay erseyJay Forever. I never want to visit that state again.


Happppy Birthday to me.

So it's understandable that an impromptu trip to Florida for five days sitting with my best friend wooing multiple crowds of men by the beach was much more pleasant than a night in a dirty hotel where I tried to play matchmaker with my weekend plans and everyone else who came along.

The good thing about birthdays. They keep on comin'.



p.s. thanks Stephen for reminding me why I like to write, and why I should get back to posting regularly on here.
I have to share with you his texts this morning, that lead to the title of this post.
My thoughts in parentheses

"So I just read a few posts on your blog.

(I love this because now I know he stalks me, cuz I never mentioned my blog to him!
HA!)

You are a f-ing hysterical writer. I was seriously laughing.

(I have NO clue which posts he read, sorry I can't vouch for the whole me being funny)

Who knew you could write?

( Um? I did. Thanks.)

I mean you sure as hell can't drive a kart."

(He took me go karting on Sunday. I wish I could say he was lying. But I sucked ass.)

To which I responded
"You just made my freaking day. I haven't been able to write since I share my computer is in storage right now.
(and i live in the stone age and don't have a laptop.)
AND I wasn't exactly sure anyone actually liked my blog. Writing is how I want to make my fortune in life, I'm currently working on a series of children's books."

And then this little gem...

"I'm impressed. And frightened at the same time... re: the kids books. Kinda like when I discovered George Carlin narrated Thomas the Tank Engine Shows...as my son watches."

Did anyone just read that?! I like that comparison. Even if it is meant not in the way that I am like George Carlin in any way shape or form. Because I obviously know that. Much less my level of comedy being anywhere near able to reach that of the late great Mr. Carlin's. But to compare the shock and horror a hot Dad feels when realizing my mouth of a sailor is trying to write a series of successful children's books, well it's a great day.




...stay tuned.