Wednesday, April 4, 2012

silly old me

I can't remember the last time I wore fishnet stockings.

Or went to a party wearing a wig.

Or a party where anyone else was wearing a wig.

Or went to a party. A real party. Not a kids birthday party. Not a dinner with friends...

I can't remember the last time I met a stranger and spoke in an accent.

Or the last time I went skinny dipping in a natural body of water.

I can't remember the last man I kissed before I kissed the man I married.

I can't remember the last time I went to a bar or a restaurant or a shop or a park and thought I'd probably run into someone I know.

I can't remember the last time I sang in front of an audience.

Or the last movie I snuck into.

Or the last time I picked up my phone without knowing who was calling.

I can't remember the last time I wore rhinestones.

I can't remember the last tree I climbed, or tried to climb.

Or the last time I hid something in a hole in the ground that I dug myself.

Or the last time I gave myself a nickname.

Or cut my own hair.

I don't remember any of these things anymore.
And I am not sure why.
I feel boring.


  1. I DO remember the last party I went to, it was in Ojai. In January. And it was a good time. Maybe now that I have written this list, my memories will come back to me one by one!

  2. You know what this means, right? We must throw a party! Everyone will have to wear fish nets, rhinestones and wigs and speak in foreign accents. We can play spin the bottle and take turns singing in front of the other party guests. Maybe if we drink enough we'll have the courage to streak down to the ocean for a dip and then sneak into a late night movie. Someone will surely try to climb a tree. We'll call ourselves the "rhinestone avengers" and the self given nickname will stick. On the way home from the movie we'll stop in at our favorite neighborhood pub. We know the bartender and his propensity for extra dry martinis. Unfortunately, once we're home, we'll discover some sort of ocean detritus tangled in our hair (leftover from our wild dip) and we'll determine that a drunken haircut is the only solution. The next morning someone will call to thank us for such a rockin good party and we'll have no idea who it is (extra dry martinis tend to have that affect).

    See ... We're not boring at all!

    1. This is awesome. But, we have to do it. So where you wanna meet up. Kansas City seems like as good a place as any! (although ocean dipping would be more difficult there ;)

      Thanks for making me smile! I needed that.