So yesterday I was going to write about my weekend, cuz, y'know, that's what I do on Mondays. Write about my weekend. Except for yesterday when I was thinking about what I would say about what I did and what I saw and whatever pithy remarks I may have about this and about that, I realized something.
I AM THE MOST BORING HUMAN ON THE PLANET
Seriously. What did you last weekend? Well, I scrubbed out my stove, and I cleaned under the refrigerator, and I mended a throw pillow. Oh, oh, and I bleached Gabriel's bath toys. That was PROBABLY the highlight, if I'm really honest with myself, bleaching the bath toys. GOD. How did I become this person? This insane, bath toy bleaching person?
Does anyone remember the time that I went skinny dipping in the UCSB pool, and got caught by the cops, and then rescued from the cops by lesbians in the bushes?
Or the time that I was so drunk that I called 9-1-1 to get home? Because it was the only phone number that I could remember?
Or when I went to the running of the bulls in Pamplona?
Or going to Chumash?
Or when I stole that guy's bike?
Or when Molly and I went to the Jury Room at noon the day after Christmas, cuz, gee, THAT'S a good time to go the biggest dive in Santa Cruz?
Or shopping cart races?
Or Vegas when I think I slept in a closet? Or maybe the bathtub? If I slept, because it was my birthday and I'm really not sure?
Or going to the strip club AKA whore house in Mexico?
Or when Ben's resident peed in my closet?
Or when we danced in our chonies on the counters at The Alternative?
I'm only 25, but oh, I feel old.