Monday, June 22, 2009

My Very Own Cinderella

Needless to say I have been dreading this past weekend like a wart on your vag. I would have rather slipped into a coma for 72 hours than gone through my first fathers day without my Dad. Obviously this was not possible. With my brother thousands of miles away, I decided to take this opportunity to hibernate with my pug inside the comforts of my fabulous new apartment.

I had a weekend planned of pj's, take out, and a trip to blockbuster. After the week I had, it was in my best interest to stay away from the general public... mostly for their own safety. However there was one small hole in my plan, I had agreed much earlier in the week to go out with Brett Michaels on Friday night. Though I had absolutely no desire to be in any public venue where I would run the risk of seeing anyone with their father or even just happy people in general. I knew it would be good for me to get out of the house for at least one night.

I drove out to Saginaw to pick up my date for what was to be an evening I will always remember. As I was waiting in my car for Brett to come out, I thought to myself that no matter what, I really did want this evening to be fun. I needed laughter and I needed uncomplicated. As Brett walked up to my car I felt the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No matter what I have said about this man or the sheer fact that he smoked his mom, he still does things to me. I wish I could explain or better yet even describe it. He is just sexy. Even in his horrible clothing and his terminator sunglasses... I just want to jump him. Moving on.

We get to dinner and we immediately begin our playful banter. One of our favorite past times is to horribly embarrass the other person in public. We also have this thing where we thumb wrestle and/or play tic tac toe at the table while we are waiting on our food. As we are sitting there, we start going over show times when Brett informs me that he has to be home by 1:00am. I ask Cinderella why he suddenly has a curfew at the ripe old age of 31. Brett then tells me he has to be home by 1:00 am not because he will turn into a pumpkin but because he is sporting a new court ordered ankle monitoring device. I ask you... What the french?

Brett has had some trouble with drinking in the past. He may have one or two or even three DWI's under this belt. This much I knew. However, the powers that be recently decided that he could no longer be trusted and gifted him with this beautiful new bling for his ankle. Again... What the french? Am I really sitting here? Is this really happening? I sat there in silence for what felt like forever. After that, all I could do was laugh. I mean really... what is a girl to say when their boyfriend may have been on an episode of cops?

I am not sure if I always over react or he always under reacts in these situations, but I found myself again sitting next to him in complete shock. Did my little mom smoker really just tell me that he is wearing a flippin ankle monitor? As always, Brett tries to simplify the problem. He tells me that it is no big deal because he only has to wear it for three months. THREE MONTHS? When did I sign up for this and how do I cross my name off of the list.

I wish I could tell you that I took Brett home after dinner. I didn't. We still went to the movies, I still laughed my butt off, and I still let him hold my hand in the theatre. I spent the rest of the weekend as planned. I held myself hostage in my apartment only coming out for food or to walk the dog. I watched the 103 movies I rented at blockbuster, I cried like a five year old, and I hit ignore on my cellphone more times than I can count.


Lisa said...

but I love you!!!

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