Tales of Wit and Charm…

I’m taking a vacation day from work today.  Neither because I want to, nor because I’m going to some exotic location with cabana boys to tend to my every possible need.

Unless, of course, you consider a court room an exotic location…  WHICH I DON’T!

Last winter I  witnessed a hit-and-run/drunk driving accident, and made the mistake of reporting it to the police.  Never, ever again.

Sure I’ll report it, but that will be that.  I’ll call the police, report it and immediately hang up.  I will not stay on the phone at 3:00 AM with the police while I chase down the car to get a license plate number.  And when I find the car pulled over with a girl covered in blood, I won’t try to help.  Nope, not me, I’ll be home sleeping.

I wish I knew what to expect today. I’m really hoping for a wine and cheese mixer beforehand.  I’d like to ask the defendant if her broken nose healed properly, and if she learned her lesson not to wake people up in the middle of the night by hitting a parked car repeatedly.  I’m also wondering if she thought my pajamas were cute that night, they were my new Christmas jammies.

Ohhh, and I hope they serve red wine. I know it’s summer, but I’m not really a white wine drinker. It just isn’t pleasing to my palate, and an displeased palate has been known to cause extreme orneriness. I don’t want to be ornery on the stand.  Otherwise who knows what could happen.  Am I allowed to give my answers in rhyming form?  Or better yet, sing-song?

I’m also wondering if I can suggest the death penalty.  Anyone who wakes me up from deep slumber deserves death.

RLO is the most amazing person ever. Well maybe not ever, I mean ever is a long time. Let’s just stick to RLO is the most amazing person right now.

Last night he came over to help me study for my math final I’m flunking taking later today. I’m proud to announce there was no yelling, no crying and no freaking out. Wait. There was a little freaking out, but it was on his part for once. He nearly lost it when I touched him after touching Daisy without washing my hands first, because OH MY GOD who knows where that dog has been!  Sometimes I like to piss him off so he’ll appreciate all the other times when I’m so very sweet to him.

After our tutoring session he took me for frozen yogurt because I was so well-behaved.  And because he was so nice, and didn’t smack me over the head with my algebra book when I asked stupid questions, I let him drive me around on the scooter.

As we were eating our yogurt I mentioned Ben hadn’t gone with me to purchase a helmet yet.  “Sarah,” he said, “because they probably won’t prosecute Ben for killing you when you wreck and die, I want you to know I’ll take him to civil court for you.”

RLO is seriously the sweetest guy.  He’d sue my brother for wrongful death once I’m gone. I did make him promise to take the money and get a tattoo that reads: I miss my BFF Sarah.  He wholeheartedly agreed.

I’m having the design made up, just in case.

I’m 32 and single–there is a reason for this.

On the outside I look like a great catch. I’m cute enough, I’m smart enough, and I’m certainly funny enough. My problem isn’t on the outside, my problem in on the inside. It’s there that I’m completely screwed up. I don’t know how to show love. The people I care for the most are the people I end up hurting. Coupled with insecurities on his part, this behavior pattern helped destroy the most significant relationship of my life.

I’m a junior high school boy on the inside, without the raging boner. I tease those I care about. Sure, we all tease, but I always take it way too far. A funny bit turns into resentment and hurt feelings that no amount of passionate kissing can fix. This is my love life.

I know exactly the reasons why I am the way I am. As cathartic as it would be to write about, I don’t think it’s fair to continue to point fingers at other people for my problems.

I absolutely want to change, and if I ever want a healthy relationship I have to change, but I have no idea how to go about doing that. Therapy is undoubtedly an option, but frankly I can’t afford to sink money into therapy when I’m trying to put myself through college.

Not only am I that junior high school boy, I’m also a scared little girl. So until I figure out how to solve my issues on my own, I’m going to remain a bitter girl who claims she doesn’t want a relationship. Just don’t tell anyone I actually do. It’s our little secret.

My entire weekend can be summed up in the below two pictures.

A lecture:

From my fake gays:

Seriously, that was my weekend. Throw in a couple bottles of wine, a raging heat-induced headache and that’s it folks.

Non-troll doll and I were eating a late dinner at Red Rock last night, when he asked the waiter, “Can you bring me a side of that garlic sauce?  I can’t remember what it’s called.”

“Aioli sauce?”

“Yes, that.  Thank you.”

The waiter leaves and Non-Troll, looking very concerned, said to me, “I’ll never be able to remember the name of that damn stuff.”

“It can’t be that difficult… just remember areola nipples.  I’m pretty sure you can remember that word.”

“So when I order nipple sauce you think they’ll know what I mean?”

“Definitely, but can you wait until after we break-up?”

“Of course darling.”

My timing is impeccable, as usual.  After I submitted my last column about suffering through the Twilight Concert Series at the Gallivan, the advertising manager for the newspaper asked if I would sit at our sponsored booth there.  He hadn’t yet read my column.  Obviously.  I agreed but took RLO along as a buffer, just in case.

The concert was much more enjoyable in the safety of a booth with chairs and free wine.  It was also nice to meet some of our readers and see my friend Michael.

After the concert RLO and I headed over to Liberty Park for the firework display.  Crossing the busy street, I was just about to stupidly walk into oncoming traffic when RLO grabbed my arm and stopped me.  What he should have done is pushed me further into the street.

After all the grief I give that boy online (and offline) he had every right to push me in front of that speeding car.  But I’m sure glad he didn’t.

After my heart slowed down I remembered a comment he said to me last week, “Sarah, given the choice I’d rather have you alive than dead.”  At the time I laughed and told him it was the best compliment I’d ever received.  Now I know it wasn’t meant as a compliment, it was a true statement.  Diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend… RLO is.