January is an odd month, full of "getting back into the swing of things" energy as well as "Crap! I have to get back into the swing of things" energy.
Not to take away from Kanga's feelings, I've also been feeling slightly out of sorts lately. I'm going to get my ears cleaned out on Wednesday in case it's a wax build up thing (which, no joke, has happened before - the stuff that can be found hidden on greasy italian girls ain't pretty). And I started to write this really nostalgic blog about my past, and I realized once again that I have been one luck fuck.
I've moved a ton of times, and as much as I would like to give my amazing social skills the credit, luck and the amazingness of others are really the cause of my having made such incredible friends over the years. I have little communities all over the place and they are all the coolest people ever. And now, here in Edmonton I am apparently already invited to a girls night on Saturday with some extraordinary chicks all because I made friends with a girl who was on a date with my boyfriend.
Really now people, who else is lucky enough to have a situation like meeting a girl your boyfriend is having sex with turn into a good thing? A great thing, no less? Though in Kanga's life I am one of the less weirdly met associates of hers, in my life I find our friendship further proof of the horseshoes in my rectum.
I was reminded a few days ago of another lucky/seamy incident. Years ago, I also managed to turn sleeping with a taken dude (yes, yes, very bad, I will never do it again - unless he asks ;) ...no no, slapping my hand. I will never do it again!) into some really good times which, though it may make me sound like a perfidious whore, I don't regret in the least. Hell, you know you're having good sex when you set off the automatic fan in your apartment that goes off when your humidity levels get too high.
I am also coming up on 4 years with a boy I met through an internet personals ad on the website for Blind Date - you all remember that stupid television show. I met the man of my dreams by answering a personals ad. I picked (actually Philandrea did) the right guy out of 260 that fit my qualifications. And he's a hunglikeamuleM.A. inphilosophymakesmedinnereverynight hottie!
Okay, I'm going to stop looking at all these moments because it's starting to creep me out. Have I made some pact with the devil that I've repressed? Stranger things have been known to happen.
I'm starting to wonder
Not to take away from Kanga's feelings, I've also been feeling slightly out of sorts lately. I'm going to get my ears cleaned out on Wednesday in case it's a wax build up thing (which, no joke, has happened before - the stuff that can be found hidden on greasy italian girls ain't pretty). And I started to write this really nostalgic blog about my past, and I realized once again that I have been one luck fuck.
I've moved a ton of times, and as much as I would like to give my amazing social skills the credit, luck and the amazingness of others are really the cause of my having made such incredible friends over the years. I have little communities all over the place and they are all the coolest people ever. And now, here in Edmonton I am apparently already invited to a girls night on Saturday with some extraordinary chicks all because I made friends with a girl who was on a date with my boyfriend.
Really now people, who else is lucky enough to have a situation like meeting a girl your boyfriend is having sex with turn into a good thing? A great thing, no less? Though in Kanga's life I am one of the less weirdly met associates of hers, in my life I find our friendship further proof of the horseshoes in my rectum.
I was reminded a few days ago of another lucky/seamy incident. Years ago, I also managed to turn sleeping with a taken dude (yes, yes, very bad, I will never do it again - unless he asks ;) ...no no, slapping my hand. I will never do it again!) into some really good times which, though it may make me sound like a perfidious whore, I don't regret in the least. Hell, you know you're having good sex when you set off the automatic fan in your apartment that goes off when your humidity levels get too high.
I am also coming up on 4 years with a boy I met through an internet personals ad on the website for Blind Date - you all remember that stupid television show. I met the man of my dreams by answering a personals ad. I picked (actually Philandrea did) the right guy out of 260 that fit my qualifications. And he's a hunglikeamuleM.A. inphilosophymakesmedinnereverynight hottie!
Okay, I'm going to stop looking at all these moments because it's starting to creep me out. Have I made some pact with the devil that I've repressed? Stranger things have been known to happen.
I'm starting to wonder
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