November 21, 2005
i allegedly left my alleged sweatshirt in what is allegedly san diego

Boy and pickles and I went to san diego this weekend. Boy has an old roomate who lives there who is nice and not particularly sucky (hi john!), so we figured we'd have a little visit, meet his new woman etc. but seeing as we could really go to san diego any weekend, the primary purpose of this specific trek was that my friend from massachusetts was going to be there for a few days (edit: with her *boyfriend*), and gee wouldn't it be nice for people who are friends to actually see eachother?

crazy, i know.

so anyway, we drive the "two hour drive" for like three and a half hours, and when we arrive, pickles appears to have completely forgotten that he really enjoyed himself last time we were here, and so gives riley (their dog) one look of distaste, and runs blindly into the street. and why wouldn't he? clearly suicide is a valid option when presented with the opportunity to play with another dog in a sunny yard and eat cookies all day.

at some point he got over his neurosis (to a degree) and actually did some playing. not the real kind of dog playing, but like some weird pickles soft-core version of playing, including digging through the bushes and emerging covered in bug larvae. i know, i know. that's why i'm trying to spread the love! worldwide pickles, sucka!

so Boy's friend john and his woman, john'swoman, and the two of us weirdos had some conversation which i can not really recall in too much detail because there was some uh, drinking. allegedly. i cannot confirm (or deny) the drinking. i *can* confirm a hangover (damn you, stolichnaya! damn you to hell), but that doesn't prove anything.

i like to think the conversation went something like this:
me: timely and well thought out remark regarding the current state of american society, followed by witty comment, closed with pithy yet poetic metaphor.

john: my goodness, Boy. your woman is quite erudite, not to mention beauteous beyonf measure.

john'swoman: it's true! she is quite wonderful, i feel i am better person for having met her. i certainly will be reading her blog, and spreading the buzz to all my many friends and family.

Boy: she is the light of my life and i cannot fathom how i managed to live the 10519 days (or alternately, 252456 hours, or 15147360 minutes, or 908841600 seconds) before i met her. i only wish she could possibly love me as much as i love her, evidenced by the grand gestures i'm always making, and all the luxurious diamonds i keep buying her.

unfortunately, i suspect it went something more like this:
me: we have to watch this show! they're showing botched plastic surgery! it's gross. i love it. oh, but she's not the acid face lady. this one's the face-shot-off-lady.

john'swoman: i can't believe you said that.

one of the boys: i think someone farted.

other boy: yeah, i've been gassy all day.

one of the boys: yeah, me too.


clearly by five thirty, there was a definate buzz in the air. my friend call to say they would be in pacific beach (that's "pb" to the cool kids) and so we agreed to meet them. then some blurry stuff happened, i gave Boy my phone (that was important) and john'swoman turned out to be really swell and i liked her a whole lot. that part didn't ever stop, by the way. she's cool. i even remember her name.

back in storyland, i keep calling my alleged friend to see what's going on and for some reason they were at hooters. of all places. but we didn't really want to go there, because clearly we're no fun and you know, snobby and uppity and shit, what with wanting to sample the local scene... so we said we'd wait for them where we were. a while later (possibly up to two hours, the whole time/space continuum thingie was greatly influenced by my possible ingestion of stolichnaya), they were still there, hanging out with some strange marines.

i think this is where Boy and his friend started calling my alleged friend and leaving her messages. they may have also texted her, but i do not know because all of my text messages were erased the next morning. see i told you it was important. i am clearing my name!

i know this post is kind of long and boring, but really the part that's the whole point is coming up.

so we were drunk, or atleast i was, or i mean, i may have been... and also hungry, leading to some delicious burritos. but for some reason (i heard jeebus laughing again) mine came with a side of self pity EVEN THOUGH I SAID I ONLY WANTED RICE AND BEANS. so then i got all sad because i had been blown off for bad chicken and marines (which is so uncool, because i bet i have more tattoos than they do anyway, and also i'm cuter and have bigger boobs-- and i could totally take those chickens, and possibly sucker punch those marines) so we went home so i could figuratively lick my figurative wounds.

and maybe cry a little. allegedly.

now, something that happens when Boy is drunk is that he says strange things to me and then doesn't remember them. so we're laying there in bed, and he says to me, "this is ridiculous. i can't believe you're mad at me (which i was not). i don't even know why. it's over."

that's right. he broke up with me. and then we both rolled over and went to sleep.

in the morning we snuggled and ate sausages.

and drove home, and left my sweatshirt in san diego.


totally un-funny post script: i am in no way mad at this friend. i would still very much like to see her. i also totally *heart* john'swoman and hope to spend lots and lots of time "not drinking" with them in the future.



18 Comments:

Blogger AnonymousCoworker said...

Kee-rist you sould like my sister in law. She came over on Saturday, threw her bookbag at our wall, laughed, cried, and went to sleep.

Okay, so like you, but abbreviated.

Blogger Racheal said...

Hm. That's interesting. It seems like ALL my conversations go as that last one.

I'm not sure how I should feel about that.

Blogger MonkeyGurrrrrl said...

Well, I heart marines (daddy was a jet pilot) and men in uniform, generally, so I can *kinda* sympathize with your friend. Tho I have no idea why any even minimally self-respecting woman would deign to patronize a hooters. But anyway - I'm going to be in SD over the Turkey Day weekend. You want I should pick up your sweatshirt?

Blogger Libby said...

I totally HEART Marines, which is why, when my boyf (we're not talking about that right now) goes to visit his friend in San Diego, I am not allowed to go.

And did I miss something, or did Boy break up with you? Did you get back together? What the hell happened? Is this one of those drunk stories I had to be there to understand, and if I was there, it would have been weird?

Blogger miss kendra said...

see it's not weird if you're just a hot girl and there are marines... but she was with her BOYFRIEND and his "best buddie."

which equals extra weird, and thus extra rejectie.

Blogger miss kendra said...

yes. he drunkenly broke up with me.

but then didn't remember it in the morning, and claims he "would never do something like that."

and then we snuggled. and ate sausages. did i mention sausages?

Blogger Auntie Sassy said...

Are you sure you were allegedly drunk? I think you may have been allegedly high off of getting hot boxed by the gassy britches brigade.

I've been there sister.

I have five brothers.

Damn...no wonder my vision randomly blurs.

Blogger babyjewels said...

This is life immitating art (if you are a real world fan and watch melinda and danny for even one episode)

I've had many a drunken pretend breakup. I hope you had some good pretend makeup sex to go with that. ;)

Blogger Beeb said...

Yeah, I think she mentioned the sausages...




right???

Blogger CommonWombat said...

I've been to Hooters, and I've been to a strip club, and I think it's somewhat telling that Hooters was the only place where I felt kind of dirty and ashamed.

I'm not a big fan of strip clubs, but at least there's an honesty about what you're there for... Hooters is like "You're here to EAT, don't look at the boobs but LOOK at the boobs but DON'T look at the boobs..."

Um... Can I say boobs a few more times? Boobs boobs boobs.

Okay, I think that's out of my system now.

HA! I just noticed that my word-verification word today is "bbiez!"

BOOBIES!!!

Christ. Someone should take away my keyboard. I'm serious.

Blogger MooCow said...

Can I just be you for like 10 minutes in some weird John Malkovichian kind of way?

(Which I probably misspelled but google is soooo far away)

PS. My word verification is knoddgg which just makes me giggle...

Blogger Southernspeak4 said...

Miss Kendra, are the sausages some sort of euphemism? I don't understand.;)

Well, there WERE weird marines involved, who could blame her...

Pickles rocks, I tell you, he (she?) would get along with the sage, wise Buddha the pug very well.

Buddha is, for some strange reason, afraid of corn on the cob, BUT he saw a skunk here on the farm where we are at the moment and ran up to meet his new friend.

*Cartoon bubble thoughts of Buddha*

"Huh ho, Hi Buddy, wanna play? Ho ho, I can stick my butt up in the air too, cool! Oh, *cough* that's pretty rank...mine are too, but not like that. Hey, lemme get a little closer and jump on your head....now there you go again with that butt stuff..huhuhuhuh...that's funnnn!*

*Eye rolls from me*

Needless to say, there was a tomato juice bath later.

Blogger Grend31 said...

Sometimes a sausage
is just a sausage... sometimes
it is morning wood

Blogger Frog said...

Take Care, miss Kendra.

Blogger J├╝rgen Nation said...

I have conversations like the first set all the time when I'm drunk.

I'm lying.

I get loud and stupid and more grizzled. Have you ever seen a grizzled girl? That's me, after 6 Crystal Light martinis. And oh, yes. I can pack 'em in.

Blogger Sarah Smile said...

Just so you know, I'm INDIGNANT.

*spits and sputters*

I demand to be visited.

Blogger Grend31 said...

Oh. And I'm having a this weird craving for burritos *and* sausages right now.

Thank you very much.

Blogger karla said...

You drunken, sweatshirtless, burrito-eating harlot. Sounds like a good time, in spite of the demise (and subsequent rejoining) of your relationship with boy.

Well, I mean it sounds good except for the sausages part. Ick.

Post a Comment

<< Home

golden state