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Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Yabba-Dabba-Don't-Even-Think-About-It...
Oh, Wilma...
You bitch. Let's start off with this wacky path you're carving through the Gulf. What are you doing? And why are you moving WNW and all the weathermen are insisting you'll make a dramatic east turn to ruin my weekend.
Mother Nature is fucking with me.
I'm scheduled to travel Sunday morning with PlayBoy to Orlando for a series of business meetings and frankly, I need the break. Work conventions are typically round-the-clock parties full of people I know and love. GrabbyMan will be there with some old, dear friends of mine (former bosses) that I would love to see. I've been working 70+ hour weeks doing management duties well above my skill set and I need to get away for TWO DAYS to relax and clear my head. Not to mention that the meetings are key to some successful business ventures. And, no, don't read into my travel companion PlayBoy's companionship. While we have become extremely close friends, we are strictly friends and neither of us have any inclination towards anything but. On the contrary, it seems PlayBoy is my newest "Lost Boy" and he's more likely to be banging half of Orlando while I try to ignore the sound of his headboard rattling my room walls with his latest conquest.
So, what's a "Lost Boy"? Think Wendy in Peter Pan, mothering a band of sorry little men who needed a female to nurture them and care. PlayBoy has joined the ranks, which include GrabbyMan, and become my latest "Lost Boy". Let me explain. I've always gotten along with two groups - strong women and weak men. The men, most of whom are these repressed, anti-social, depressive darlings end up finding me extremely easy to talk to in a world full of people they won't open up to. The next thing I know, I have a new "Lost Boy". It's been a lifelong pattern. I'm a lucky girl that (1) EH knows this is a trend with me, (2) EH trusts me implicitly and (3) my "Lost Boys" are always kept in the friend category.
Occasionally, a Lost Boy might confuse our special friendship for deeper feelings. It's happened once or twice. It blows over rapidly and we remain the best of friends. Most of my Lost Boys are in love with me, but in a different way than romantically. It's not uncommon for a Lost Boy to tell me they love me or for me to say the same. But it's no different than me telling BestFriendM (girl) how much I love her. Make sense?
So, yes. PlayBoy, for all his glory, is truly a Lost Boy. He's latched firmly onto me and keeps me well within his reach so I can hear him occasionally open up about his thoughts. With EH and PlayBoy by my side each and every single day at the office, there's not a second of alone time in my life (save the gym). They don't ask me to lunch, they expect me for lunch. I sometimes kiddingly wonder what the pair would do if I skipped out on them both for a meal. I suspect they might starve...
I can still hear you wondering how I might feel if EH had close female friends. You're right. I would hate it. But then, I have never once had any romantic moment with a Lost Boy. And my faithfulness has not been compromised even once. The only line I ever crossed was a clumsy kiss delivered on a drunken night by a DIFFERENT Lost Boy which I reported faithfully to EH.
So, Wilma-dear, you fat windbag - back the fuck off. I need a break from my daily grind and these meetings are important. I have a wonderful solution. How about everyone come stand along the west coast shores of Florida and we'll all huff and puff and blow in unison to keep Wilma at bay. Or at Gulf. Whichever.
Now, I am off to do terrible, naughty, not-even-remotely demure things to my husband to work off some frustration. And he's waiting patiently for me to join him. I would tell you allll about them, but I would hate to spoil your image of me as a perfect lady. (Yea, right.)
Good night, Blog Land.
Posted by Red ::
10:08 PM ::
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