Monthly Archives: February 2011
I vaguely remember my high school years..well, I remember them pretty well actually. I have an excellent memory when it suits me. And as of this moment, it suits me like a wetsuit, which, if I actually wore one, would show off my walrus-like physicque.
Anyone that knows me, KNOWS how painfully shy I am. A good part of it is due to high school. I was shy for a damned good reason; to keep myself off the radar of bullies. Again, anyone who was my friend in high school knows that I was a popular target. I could never conform to people’s expectations. Nor did I want to. And to be honest, I had a dur face going on. So I kept to myself and to a loyal table of misfits. Dustin, Dave Connor–who helped me open my ketchup packets because I was a wuss–and a few others. We were the misfits of high school, the ones that weren’t smart or pretty enough to fit in a particular cliche. Pretty much, the lunch version of the Breakfast Club.
Only I was the fat, socially maladjusted one. The person who made a pitiful attempt at fitting in every once in awhile..to fall flat on my fanny.
Then there was Band. The one area I did ok in, other than English and Literature, although I could not read music worth a lick. I had a good ear for it, and had nearly perfect pitch—but I had a peculiar inabilty to read the notes. Still, I skipped out on the final exams where I had to play a solo in front of Mr. Band Teacher–I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to find the courage to reveal just how bad at interpreting . But he passed me. I got A’s throughout my time there. Talk about getting a good grade that I really didn’t merit getting. Maybe the teacher felt sorry for me.
I’ve got more stories to tell about band, but that will have to keep. The Tylenol PM that I took is starting to do its thang and I am drifting off to slumber…
Aunt Val is my cranky alter ego who just happens to be a valkryie! Been a long time since I’ve felt the mood for this. Enjoy!
Dear Aunt Val,
I’m a single, fun lovin’ party girl doing the club scene. Currently, I’m not searching for Mr. Right or even Mr. Right Now—but I do get drinks and dinners bought for me by guys all the time. Then I meld into the crowd. I don’t talk to them and never give out my number, and my friends say that I am a tease and that it’s wrong to accept those gifts. I believe it’s ok to take advantage…I mean they are offering, aren’t they?
—Party Girl Looking For Fun Only
Here’s what I hear from you: I’m so hot…blah, blah, blah… Just looking for handouts, blah, blah blah. Don’t want to get to know anyone, just use their generosity and get wasted on someone else’s dime.
It’s a good thing that there are thousands of miles between broiling-in-my-metal-brassiere me and self entitled whiny you. I just might toss you over the saddle of my pegasus, Pokey, and drop you off somewhere…say…in Rwanda. Or in the Congo.
Accepting a drink from a man indicates a willingness to open up a discussion. That’s what alcohol should be used for. Just to loosen up a little, not get toasted, mind you, but to relax a smidge. Taking a drink and cutting is a fine example of bad manners. If you are not interested in talking, DON’T accept. Be sincere and genuine and not be classified as a “user”.