The Sad & the Pathetic: Issue 47

Well if it isn’t my little rascals. . . 

	So, it’s been a long while since we’ve spoken and I admit that it’s my fault. What is my excuse?
 I have none, except for the fact that I’ve been possessed by evil demons. Yes, it’s true. They took
 over my body. I have come to the conclusion that the reason was to reinforce my resolution that
 dating is evil and not for me. Ahhh. . . you say. Now don’t get me wrong. I love guys. They’re tons of
 fun. Tons. But anything other than that becomes complicated in a way that just isn’t worth it until
 they hit thirty. 
	Recently, my friend, Bekks, told me this really great story about her and her guy. A story
 worthy of movies and books. It ended with something like. . . “And I walked off the plane to surprise
 him. He was waiting for me asking, “Why are you here? Is something wrong.?” And I said, ‘I just
 came to tell you ‘I love you. He was almost crying.’’ Truly romantic. My response of course was
 ‘that’s really awesome. I think I’m going to throw up.’ Now this may seem like a cold response to
 you, but honestly. . . it’s just a little jealousy coming out. At least I can live vicariously through
 her. Plus, if I hadn’t thrown that in I wouldn’t have been honest and that just wouldn’t be me. 
	Which brings me to a new phrase which I truly don’t want to hear for the next couple of years.
 “I have to be honest with you. . . “ I have heard it three times in the last year and each time
 brought about something I really didn’t want to hear. What does this phrase mean? You weren’t
 being honest with me every single time you talked to me except for the next following phrase???
 Yeesh. . . brings shivers to me. I don’t need brutal honesty. Just honesty. 
	I found out a couple of days ago that my brother and his girlfriend along with her dad are going
 to the Caribbean during winter break. My mother tells me this. What?? I’m thinking. . . Man, I need a
 boyfriend. . . . but not because I want a boyfriend. Just so I have someone who says, “Hey, Mary
 want to come somewhere exotic with me for a week?” Or so that I can have that moment of surprise
 “I just came to tell you ‘I love you.’” But never fear. . . my dreams of living in a mansion with Adia
 and having hot guys serve me pina coladas is alive. ..  just as my proposal of being wealthy and
 marrying four or five guys at once . . . Viva la Fantasy! Of course, I have had to give up other
 dreams. Such as. . .when I was in sixth grade I wanted to be the President. Well as all 12 year old
 girls I wanted to rule the country just so I could paint the White House black. Unfortunately, that
 dream was crushed when I was informed that it’s against the Constitution. And my dream of being in
 the NBA was crushed because. . . well lots of reasons. a) I’m not tall enough b)I’m not a man c) I’m
 not fast enough d) I keep falling down stairs. 
	I get back from Thanksgiving that Sunday afternoon. I remember thinking briefly that I hadn’t
 had any bruises for a while. How lucky of me. So the next day I fall down some stairs coming back
 from class, but never fear I caught the banister. My knees and shins turned a lovely shade of black/
blue. . . fading into a glorious green. Mmmmm. . . .sexy. Tuesday, I’m printing in lithography and I cut
 my hand on a piece of glass. Friday, I’m coming back from printing all day. I’m exhausted and
 crossing the street. When I hear “Hey Lady, watch out!” And a car honks. I look to my right and
 there’s a car headed my way. So I stop. Another guy says, “Lady, watch out.” I look down and I
 realize. . oh, I’m in the middle of the lane. And being the incredibly intelligent person I am, I step
 back out of the road; turn to the guy and say ‘Thank you.” And I’m thinking. . . I should probably take
 a nap.
	But don’t worry. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Just as long as I make sure I
 don’t succumb to the cold I think I’m getting until after I finish all my projects. After all, if it
 wasn’t for my friends and family who come to visit me in Chicago and take me out to dinner, I
 wouldn’t be writing this today. Thanks to Jan who took me to the Cheesecake Factory tonight so
 that I could stuff my face with real food. I consumed more calories tonight than I probably have in
 the last three or four days. So the morale of the story is. . . 
	Say yes to Cheesecake. But. .. See no evil, Hear no evil, and Date no evil. 
	Actually, I have to be honest with you. . . .*shiver* . . . Just say no to crack kids. Chicago is
 fun. As Jim Carrey would say, “I like it a lot.” But when I see people with t-shirts and a leather
 coat open walking around at 12 degrees, I think to myself. . . what do these people have in their
 crack that I don’t have? 
	The Saddest and most Pathetic thing that has happened in what they call the “Windy City” when
 they should call it the “Crack Capital” is that I actually lost a friend. Something in my twenty years
 8 months fourteen days that has never happened before. And I cannot express how tragic that is. 
	One of the funniest, if John’s very sad and pathetic act last night. Which includes him taking
 frozen bacon out of the freezer and asking my roommate Lesley how to cook it because he’s really
 hungry. To which he then opens the cupboard to get a glass out and proceeds to leave the bacon in
 the cupboard. Fortunately, Lesley noticed this. Can you imagine the next day? His roommate decides
 to have a glass of lemonade, only to find defrosting bacon smelling up his cupboard. Funny, but gross
 all at the same time. A beautiful mixture. We’ll just say John wasn’t in the clearest frame of mind.
 But then are any of us? 
	I think all of you should go on a hugging rampage. And if you’re in the neighborhood make sure
 to victimize me. 

*massive hugs*
ci vediamo
-Mare

p.s. If any of you know single guys that are intelligent, successful, sexy, funny, tall, and not too full
 of themselves. . . my number is (***)5**-5422. . . *wink* 
p.s.s. What exactly do you mean by “picky”?