Happily Never After…

Dear whoever is out there,

I have to start this entry with a small preface just explaining a little bit about myself. I’m from a small town that’s literally built in the middle of a crater. The majority of our city is rock and boulders with the random tree here and there to provide just enough oxygen so that you don’t hallucinate (darn!). It’s a mining town so just keep the image of my town you have in your head already and add a giant smoke stack with crap coming out of it 24/7. It’s no town for fairy tales or happily ever afters, it’s kinda like someone invaded the house of the seven dwarfs, had them smoke 3 packs of cigarettes a day, sent them to work in mines and Tim Horton’s and gave all their children the same names.

Ok so I’m actually making my little city sound a lot worse, it’s really not that bad, especially if you have the ability to make up situations and stories in your head as I do- it’s not called being crazy, it’s called having a vivid imagination… or so I tell myself-. It makes life interesting, like when a man passes me on the street and I can map out every detail of your life together from marriage, to kids, to the place where we will die, in a matter of seconds. This ability is both a gift and a curse. When you spend half your time in la la land it’s hard to know what has happened and what you’ve made up in your head. In my Louland -as I call it- I am the most interesting person in the world. I’ve been to prison countless times, stole a lot of shit, started riots in class and above all I have successfully married, loved and banged an unnatural amount of men.

Being a romantic comedy junky as I am, I’ve started to believe that when I meet the perfect man it will be exactly like in the movies. A cute yet awkward first meeting where he begins to think I’m the most amazing girl ever, then comes his struggle to befriend me and eventually build up the courage to ask me out. Next comes the falling out because every good movie has a conflict, and finally the moment where he does some grand romantic jester to win me back and live the rest of his life with me. Due to my straying mind, when meeting anyone new I instantly go into Louland, convincing myself that  he didn’t notice me trip since he was too busy staring into my soul. Sadly in reality I’ve tripped over nothing and gone spread eagle into the nearby bush both showing my large and unattractive granny panties and simultaneously made the sounds of a wounded Robbin being drown.

It varies between tripping, getting tangled in whatever I’m wearing, to having a boogie hanging out of my nose. I swear I have the worst luck when it comes to these things and I think that’s why the only time that I’ve actually hooked up with any guy I’ve been drinking or way too distracted to realize what is happening. It’s really sad to think that the majority of intimate moments in my life have been after I’ve downed half a bottle of Disaronno.

Just lately I was walking to class when a group of attractive, tall, perfect athletic men walked passed me. In an attempt to be normal I looked at the one that was eyeing me and smiled. I was so into the moment that I didn’t realize I was walking directly into a pillar. As I hit it I threw my books in the air, made the most disgusting face ever and made the guy literally run to catch up with his friends. Story of my life I guess…

Anyways I will continue to be a romantic until I’m some crazy cat lady, screaming at the neighbourhood kids to get off my lawn. But if anything is to change don’t worry! You will be the first to know.



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