October 17, 2010 – 4:01 pm
I’ve decided to go on my honeymoon. Yes, I do realize I’m not married or planning to get married for a long time, but I’m still going to go. I’ve decided since I was young that I wanted to go to Australia for my honeymoon. I’ve informed every guy I’ve dated of this to prepare them. Since I’m tired of wasting my life away waiting for the prince to sweep me off my feet I’ve decided it’s time to go. So, I will be going some time this winter/spring-ish. I’m not sure yet if I’ll be going with anyone, but I’m comfortable traveling there by myself. And, since my boss is an Aussie I don’t have to worry about the Australian accent driving me wild and moving there to follow some lust. And I can buy cheap Ugg boots for all my friends.
I need another Coach purse like a need a hole in my head. You know that lady that’s supposed to sit on your shoulder and remind you that you don’t need those things? Mine has born a Helen Keller of the world. So, I bought two Coach purses. And a new white corduroy skirt. And black skinny capris. And a khaki trench coat. And a purple dress. And a black belted jersey dress. And 3 sequins tank tops. And a new skinny belt. Thank goodness I don’t use my credit cards or Helen would have to get a part time job.
I have a weakness for men in uniform. Or suits. Or even cowboy hats and boots. I’m not sure if they just seem that much more confident in uniform or what it is, but it makes me weak in the knees. Two weeks ago during my training we had a guy come in that is an ABS employee and is getting ready to be deployed: fatigues, shaved head, and all. I had to stop training to gather myself. Seriously. And, to the incredibly handsome, unmarried man in the suit on the bus to Avis this past week: I did notice you teasingly mocking me as I was tapping my foot to the music by whistling to it…and then smiled at me when I looked up at you. I couldn’t smile back because you knocked the wind out of me. If you were in regular street clothes I could have flirted back, but that suit made me lose control of myself. You should think about that before you try to flirt with young, innocent girls on the bus. Wish me luck in the upcoming weeks as I have to train two more groups of men in cowboy hats and boots. This job will be the death of me!
I love babies. Every time I see one smile at me my ovaries sing out in joy. Then they remember that I’m not married and have taken a yearlong vow of celibacy. So, to help my ovaries (and my mother) not give up hope I’ve given myself a timeline of age 35. Meaning, if I haven’t found a man that I want to make babies with I will make them myself. I work for an artificial insemination company. I know how it works. And, maybe then I can get an Italian or Latino donor daddy so that my kids have nice skin and are bilingual.
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