SELFABSORBED.ME

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From: ME
To: JBOY
Date: Jun 26, 2007
8:57 AM

Attached is a picture of the girl you tried to hook up with in the club….the one in the middle...seriously JBoy…I TOLD YOU to look at her face…I told you she was not cute but you were drunk and refused to listen to me…

From: JBOY
To: ME
Date: Jun 26, 2007
9:06 AM

WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!

…SHE’S NASTY!....wait from the club last weekend?

No way Kim, no way..

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From: Friend1 yaddyyaddyyaddy@yahoo.com
To: Me blahblahblah&@gmail.com
Jan 19 2008
1:05 PM

Dude, I can't stand school any more. I just can't….tell me a funny story about hooking up with a boy immediately…must get my mind off of school.

From: Me blahblahblah&@gmail.com
To: Friend1 yaddyyaddyyaddy@yahoo.com
Jan 19 2008
1:18 PM

I cannot believe you had an exam yesterday...that is horse-shit!

so went out to Smishsmorshion with my girls after work....well about three or four (or six) margaritas later and I decide it would be a GREAT idea to call Jorge...so I call him and he answers and he starts telling about how he is SO sorry he hasn't called in the past weeks and how he misses me and how I am his “universe” , and he “loves” me and blah blah blah …so I say, " Jorge! Stop talking! Sweet Jesus stop talking! I'm drunk! Get your ass over here!" (I have a way with the men-folk) ....so sure enough ten minutes later Jorge arrives. My friends find some guys with bow-ties and decide it’s time to hit the road, which is normally what I think when I see Bow-Ties as well…This leaves the two of us sitting at the bar alone...he gets up to go to the bathroom and I decide to check my phone...This is when I notice The Male Ballerina has text'd me ten times asking where I am...so I text him back I am at Shmishmorshion…he texts back "Ok, coming..on my way." ...this is when I almost vomit on the bar...I frantically text him back , "No! Don’t come! I am not there anymore, I left! I don’t even go to Shmishmorshion!"...(nice save Kimmie) .....so he texts back "Well where are you going?"...to which I don’t respond....Jorge and I stay there until 1am....I notice The Male Ballerina texting me, but again I do not respond ....At 1am I decide to go home leaving Jorge at the bar ..alone… (Heaven, here I come!)...walking home I text The Male Ballerina and he meets me halfway and comes back to my place.

...and that is how you rule the world.

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From: ME

To: JBOY
Date:Feb 2, 2008

10:04 AM

Thanks for trying to set me up with your buddy Rick for the 7th time..

From: JBOY

To: ME
Date: Feb 2, 2008

11:16 AM

Well you were gonna get lazy-eyed Joe, but now Rick it is!! He's definitely single and ready to mingle!

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Everything I need to know about men I have learned from my Nephew:

Playing street hockey in my brother’s basement with my nephew, I reached my stick out to swat at the puck in front of him. “Penalty Box!” He cried out, pointing at me.

“Penalty Box?! “ I said back, throwing my stick up in the air. “Why a penalty?! What penalty? I didn’t cause a penalty!”

“Auntie Kim...” He said slowly...” We are playing pretend…” And looked at me like the idiot I am.

An hour later, we were involved in a serious game of playdough when he asked me for the purple dough. “But I am using the purple for my grapes cause I can't use pink!” I said.

“Auntie Kim?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t play pretend very well.”

And the truth was, he was right. I don’t play pretend very well. And as my nephew was teaching me…the key to pleasing a man is always to play pretend.

Pretending you are interested in sports when you may not be… pretending you want to share food even when you don’t… pretending to be in love with someone whom you pray daily gets hit by a moving vehicle.

Funny thing is I used to play pretend so well, I could fake anything, in fact I pretended so well I actually pretended my way through two whole relationships. There should be a category for things like that at the Emmys.

“Sure I love SportsCenter.. I love it so much in fact I bet I could actually fall asleep listening to it.”

“No I don’t mind that you go to Scores on Saturdays. I think it’s great that you donate so much of your money to the local stripping women of the community who are clearly just trying to pay their way through college.”

“The waitress at your local bar has big boobs? Really? Hmm, funny I never noticed.”

In the middle of our second playdough date I reached over and grabbed one of his dough-oranges. “Mmmm this is some good fruit salad!” I said, air-munching the orange.

“Auntie Kim?"

“Yes?"

“That is just a pretend orange.”

“Damnit, I knew that.”

“Auntie...we are not allowed to swear.”

Damnit.