When Alie texted me on Valentine's evening, "Is it wrong to pretend Valentine's Day doesn't exist and to spend the evening reading in bed instead?" I knew I needed to hop into action. "Yes. Be over in an hour," I texted in response. What followed was the best Valentine's Day I've ever had, one that will go down in Georgia Is Your Friend history for its debaucherous, delirious, inebriated fun. I can't go into details, in case someone from my more respectable life reads this, but I fell asleep at four in the morning giggling madly next to my two very best friends. Also my new nickname is "Snorgia", apparently. I had no idea I snored.
This past Saturday was spent happily preparing for a photo shoot with mine and Alie's darling friend and ridiculously talented photographer Ryan Schude. The idea was kind of a post-apocalyptic vibe wherein Alie and I are attempting to lure our prey (Ryan's ever-patient brother, Collins) into our lair. The entire day - from creating our wardrobe and doing our hair and makeup ("messier, bigger!"), to nervously teetering on rusted, weather-worn cages at the abandoned zoo and listening as foxes howled in the too-close-for-comfort hills - was awesome. I could happily spend every weekend in such a way. To which God to I prey to make this happen?
And how was your Valentine's Day, lovely readers?
5 comments:
fun! what is that photo shoot for? because it looks awesome!
and my VD was lovely, thanks! :)
My Valentine's was unexpectedly lovely. Looks like yours was as well. :)
My Valentine's Day fell during my Pittsburgh road trip. So, my day was largely spent fighting my mother, whom I had brought along out of some misguided sense of filial duty. She had lost the GPS that morning, and was determined that instead of going to the Carnegie Museum of Art like was the whole purpose behind the trip, we should go to a Best Buy to buy a new one, ignoring the facts that a) I didn't drive five hours to go to a fucking Best Buy, and b) I wouldn't know where to fucking find a fucking Best Buy without a fucking GPfuckingS.
So we went to the art museum for a few hours as planned, Mom being all grumpy and accusatory, as her losing things (cell, camera, GPS, etc.) is never her fault and why won't I just drive her to a Best Buy like she wanted? And, of course, she found the GPS in her purse, ha fucking ha. Then I had to help her pick out jewelry in the museum shop, so she could spend the money she now no longer had to spend on a new GPS.
So for Valentine's Day, I did NOT get chocolate, I did NOT get quiet time with a sweetie, I did NOT get laid -- I got an extended fight with my mother, starting with some frantic room search in some anonymous Econolodge, and ending some hours later with me having to apologize for something I still don't see as being my fault, as such are the ways of Catholic Guilt in the parent-child relationship. The End.
..went the Alie route and pretended it didn't exist/lied in bed
Did I kill the thread? My bad...
Post a Comment