Hey There

Candles candles everywhere,
And not a one to light.
Not the smallest halo
To chase away the night.
Do not fear. Do not fret.
Under the covers. Into bed.
Do not fret. Have no fear.
I’ll sit with you and smooth your hair.
Don’t despair though things seem bleak.
I’ll be with you, when you can’t speak.
Even though the night is dark,
We might just find a spark.

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A Winey Conversation

I love my friend Bobbis. His real name is Rob. One night at a Christmas party, while wearing the antlers of truth, we sat in a circle and admitted our most embarrassing nicknames. In elementary school he was given the nickname “Bobbis Bobuardo.” He hated it. So it caught on. Then he really hated it. He hated it so much, that it still makes him angry even after two decades. It makes him so angry, that I am left with no choice but to call him Bobbis at every opportunity. He is extremely patient with me.

Tonight Bobbis and I shared most of a bottle of wine (and whine), some laughs, some hugs, and even a tear or two. After two glasses of wine our conversation struck me as being especially hilarious. I’m sure I’ll read this tomorrow and be like “Say whaaaaaaa?? That’s not even funny.” But much like waking up from a crazy dream and realizing I’ve just discovered the outline and plot of my upcoming bestselling screen-play, right now I am convinced it is brilliant. Bear with me:

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“But to be a sugar daddy don’t you have to have some sugar?”

“I could be daddy. I just don’t have too much sugar.”

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“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Sorry, not you. I was talking to the dog.”

“Wait…what?”

“Well I know you already. I want her to like me.”

**********

“Lemme ask you a serious question…”

“Ok.”

“If I won the lottery do you think you’d ever hear from me agai…”

“Nope.”

“Dammit, why does everyone say that?!”

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“You know, all of my Christmas decorating will culminate in one year. Have you seen national lampoon’s Christmas vacation? Its gonna be like that. I’m going ape-shit with Christmas lights…then never again.”

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“If had to pick one person to describe me…no wait…listen…it would be three people.”

“Ok, who?”

“Dwight Schultz, Ellen DeGeneres and George Constanza.”

“Who the hell is Dwight Schultz?”

“Ya know…Murdoch from The A-Team.”

“So you would pick a lesbian woman as a celebrity who embodies your personality?”

“And two men!”

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Thanks for always being there Bobbis Bobuardo, and for supplying me with endless hours of conversation.

And since I am still wearing the antlers of truth, I will admit that my most hated nickname growing up was “Krisinini-dukatinie”…shortened to “Dukey.” A four-year old little girl with the nickname “Dukey.”

You’re welcome.

wpid-IMG_20130630_020649.jpgThis was the wine we decided on.

wpid-IMG_20130630_020733.jpgAnd this is why we made the decision…girls night in.

Bromance….blechhh.

Can I take a minute to vent and say how much I absolutely hate the expression “Bros before hoes”?  And that if I hear it said just one more time, I may actually knock someone’s head off?

Yeah, male friendships are cool.  They offer something that platonic friendships with the opposite sex and/or romantic relationships can’t.  They offer camaraderie.  But they are not better than romantic relationships.  Nor are they better than friendships with women.  And they are certainly not better than friendships that women have with each other.  We’re not in fifth grade; it isn’t a competition.  Can we stop pretending it’s boys vs girls?

And why all the bromantic lingo?  Bro, brah, broseph, and “the Bromittee”  (insert exaggerated eye rolling here).  I could offer up a series of alternate catch phrases for female friendship as told by Amy Poehler: “Sisters before misters.”  “Ovaries before brovaries.”  “Uteruses before duderuses.”  But what would be the point, other than a good giggle?  Are we supposed to be looking for balance, harmony and unity?  Your friendships with other dudes should not be elevated to the point of idolatry; or employ snarky slogans that cut your “sisters” down to the status of “hoe” just so you can experience male bonding.

On a side note…if the only way you’re comfortable with me is to keep me on a shelf, don’t bother.  Cause I’ll just jump down and go on my way.  I might break my leg in the process, but I would rather walk with a limp than stay in your little glass display case.

Peace out.