.jpg "Bar") |
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Well, the year of living dangerously is over (dare I say), and I'm finally comfortable enough to come out of hiding and give everyone an update on what's been happening in my life (and why I disappeared).
So, first things first. I'm not dead.
Thanks for the concern from those of you who wondered why I dropped off the face of the earth. Also, I did not rob a bank, nor was I imprisoned for the lewd content of my stories (though from some of the emails I received, some of you certainly think I should be).
But alas, the truth is much simpler (as is usually the case).
Question: What should do you if your boyfriend calls you a cunt in front of a crowded bar filled with your friends and co-workers?
If you answered: "Throw an empty beer stein at his forehead causing a giant gash that will require him to get nineteen stitches and a monumental emergency room bill because he still doesn't have health insurance even though you constantly nagged him to fill out the paperwork," then A) We should hang out, and B) It's likely we shared a jail cell the night this happened and I already told you this story.
In my defense, I would like to point out that I'm not completely crazy, and let everyone know he didn't just call me a cunt. There were extenuating circumstances that led me to the conclusion that chucking a piece of German stoneware at him was an appropriate retaliatory response.
Nevertheless, we parted ways soon after, leaving me and our (formerly) mutual girlfriend to wander the greater New England area for the last eight months in search of sexual gratification and genuine relaxation. And I have to say we did a pretty good job finding it.
So now I'm back, with many new story ideas and a reinvigorated sense of purpose. And I promise to keep in touch.
- Lilith, June 22
