my day with michael

So yesterday Michael performed a 14-hour miracle - he got me to like Christmas. He planned this giant day full of fun and laughter, which I really didnt help by almost dying a couple of times.

Part I: The Grocery Store.

Enter Michael and Katelyn into Kroger. Michael is on a mission. Onions, tomatoes, parsley, and spaghetti. In that order. Self-checkout. "Put in in Espanol!" I say, because he speaks Spanish. So we do, and waste 20 minutes of our day just ringing up four items. Absurd.

Part II: Magee's Bakery (of Lexington)

It looks like a barn on the inside, but we still have to cram ourselves into a table against the wall. The coffee smelled gross, but tasted alright - pastries were an A+ though. We talk about the Holocaust.

Part III: Sqecial Media

There were 30 minutes left on the parking meter. We decide to come back out later and put more money in, if we need to. I'm looking for a birthday present for Roy. Michael sees a cool hanging wooden dragon that he really really loves. He doesn't feel like "wasting" money. So when he goes to put money in the meter, I waste my money. I buy Michael the dragon, and I buy my brother a package of mustaches. I'm excited. I exit and Michael has moved the car and is in McDonald's peeing. He sees me when he comes out and I give him the box. He is confused. He realizes what it is, and is immediately EXTREMELY excited. More excited than was probably necessary. "I'm happy to be with you anyway, but now I have a DRAGON." He really says it.

Part IV: Chalking

We chalk how being together makes us feel. Michael draws a storm cloud with lightning bolts and rain and a sad, sad sunshine. I draw a broken heart, but I add a band-aid next to it with 'Michael' written on it. He doesn't change anything about his, but I know he's kidding. I hope. We also trace our shadows and then color clothes onto ourselves. They're actually very neat. Then I go to swing. This is where things get ugly. Michael follows me and sits in my lap on the swing, while I am still swinging. This would not have been so bad, but I start to slide off the back of the swing, and Michael is sitting on my lungs at this point, eliminating my ability to breathe or speak. My fingers are already frozen, but I'm hanging on to the chains for dear life. Michael is having a great time as I struggle to communicate that he needs to let go. He eventually lets go, but not before I start crying. My arms are REALLY sore the next day. He feels bad.

Part V: Naptime

Michael's room. Nap. Pretty straightforward.

Part VI: Ice Skating

I'm nervous. Michael is already a really good skater, where I am not. He is good at everything. He warms up for a couple laps while I mentally prepare myself. I step onto the ice and immediately lose all good feelings that are left. By the time I'm ready to leave, I have not yet fallen. Was anyone watching when Dale Earnhardt had his fatal accident in the last turn of the race? I have bruises on my hips now, anyway.

Part VII: Dinner
I play Scott in Trivial Pursuit (Canadian Edition?) and listen to him simultaneously diss my intelligence and Michael's dinner. An hour later, Michael's dinner is really really really fucking good and I'm happy.

Part VIII: Boondock Saints

I didn't really watch much of it, to be honest. :)

I really am probably the luckiest girl ever, especially because I have Michael. He's amazing.

i have loved you

I have held your hand in the blue cold, with blood hardening like the puddles at our feet, and I have loved you. I, a nervous accessory to your gentle hands and overwhelming needs, have known you for years without knowing your name. And if I was not full of sin enough to beckon your fingers to my skin, then maybe I was just the girl who could ask them without words. And yes, you will bruise from this. You will scar from this. But I will hold your hand.


best. day. ever. frrlz.

katelyn

a proposal for modesty

I don't want to see your tits. For the love of god, please put those things in a safe place. You skanks have no hearts. Could you consider the rest of us? Not only do I not want to see your tits, I also don't want to have to stand with my arms up for ten minutes listening to Ronnie Fields say the word "cleavage" over and over again.
You whores are the reason I got bitched at for not wearing a belt today, the reason I had to listen to administrators fumble over the female anatomy like a horny teenager getting to second base, and the reason that they're going to start making us wear hijabs next semester.
When you get dressed in the morning, think of the children. Someone's gonna get lost in there.

katelyn