"Well, at least we don't live in our mother's basement"*

You know how you get when you're really tired and goofy and everything is funny? Yeah, well, Beth and I hit that stage last night when we were scrapbooking.

Here are some things you should know about Beth and I. We have known each other for almost 4 years (from NABABNA). I do not know what I would do without her or Keem, they are absolutely the best friends a girl could ever have. We are very close and sometimes, we can communicate telepathically (as evidenced during the night I faked an asthma attack). This also was demonstrated one night when I, for no apparent reason (as much of my actions are seen by others - for no apparent reason) started singing a random song. It consisted of las. Like this - la la la, lalala, la LA la. Or something like that. This is not that weird, actually, I've done that a few times before (read many. In fact, it was quite common to hear Mike F cry out in pain "No las! No more las, dammit!). No, what was weird about this is when Beth joined in on my random la song and matched me note for freakin' note. I think Matt was there so if he was, we have a witness. I had never sang that exact random la song before so there was no way she could know how it was going to go unless she was reading my mind.

Anyway, we are very comfortable around each other and I feel no fear in speaking my mind to her. Last night, I was kicking myself for not changing clothes before she picked me up because I was wearing a very lovely black sweater/red pants combo (festive!) and I was dying of heat. I said to her "Do you mind if I take my bra off? This is killing me. Either the bra goes or the shirt is going to have to come off. Would you mind?" Beth says it's not a problem. I then say "Do you mind if the shirt comes off?" She says "I sat in your old apartment, helping you move, in my bra. Remember? (I also was shirtless)" The shirt came off. I was scrapbooking in my lovely white bra and red pants. It was a serious relief from the heat.

Anyway, that was the start of the goofiness. Here are some highlights from the evening/morning (didn't go to sleep until 7:30, shortly after I went headfirst into the table from tiredness).

A Conversation About Bobby

DM (that would be me): Could you imagine if I ever saw Bobby slicing a lime? I'd have an orgasm right there (this was after a brief conversation where I mentioned Bobby's "Those hands. Oh, my God, those big strong masculine hands.")

Descent Into Madness

Beth and I are sitting at the table with metallic scrapbooking hearts stuck to our foreheads. Without adhesive. Only the oil from our skin is keeping them there.

DM: I dare you...I dare us to wear these to karaoke. And if anyone asks us why, we can say 'We're looking for love in all the wrong places.'

B (Beth): So any question as to why we're both single?

Friendship Takes On A New Level

I am looking of a picture I took of Beth in Vegas. She is eating ice cream. She is less than thrilled with the picture. We start arguing about the picture's merits.

B (Beth): It's a horrible picture.
DM: Well, I think you're lovely.
B: If only we were lesbians.
DM: Yes, there's some serious making out we're missing out on. Forget about scrapbooking! We could be locking lips in a lesbian frenzy!
B (looking a little grossed out): Um, no, that's okay.
DM: Yeah, I know, me either. But that was a great alliteration!

Being Positive About Being Negative

B: I can find something positive in anything.
DM: Yeah, I can too except that my toenail hurts. Well, not my toenail, my toe.
B: Well, let's look for the positive. Because your toe hurts, that means something good is going to happen. Bobby will lick it.
DM: I am not letting Bobby anywhere near my toe. I have some dignity left. Not much dignity because I'm sitting here in my bra & have a metallic heart stuck to my head. But some dignity!

Beth dissolves into laughter. I start writing this down. We laugh again.

B: Fuck, it's hot in here.
DM: Well, hello, that's why...(I gesture in the general bra area).

Everyone Needs To Have A Plan For The Future

Beth and I seriously sat down and planned our next ten years out. Not where we want to be in our careers or going back to school or finishing that freakin' novel I'm still working on. Oh, no. That would be normal. No, we planed our vacations. For the next ten years. Well, okay, we only figured out where we're going.

2005 - Portugal
2006 - New Orleans
2007 - Italy
2008 - Washington DC
2009 - Great Britain (Stratford on Avon! Woo-hoo! Among other spots)
2010 - New York
2011 - Southern Germany/France
2012 - Alaskan Cruise (when I was reading the list back, I read 2012 as Two Thousand Twen. Apparently it's a new word that I made up that makes no sense)
2013 - Moscow/Australia (No, not both of them together because that would never work. If we are married to big, strong, masculine men who can protect us, Moscow. If not, Australia. Where hopefully we will find big strong, masculine men)
2014 - Hawaii
2015 - Egypt

After planning our trips, we talked about taking smaller ones throughout the States. Like Wisconsin or Chicago (and dammit, I will be going to see flea's shop if we do!) or Michigan to see Firebear and his wife (After maybe clearing it with Larry first. That might be a good thing. Especially since we don't know where in Michigan he lives). Arizona came up.

B: Someday I'm taking you to AZ to see the Grand Canyon.
DM: Yeah, I guess we could visit my mom.
B: Well, if my grandma dies, you want to go to her funeral?
DM: Yeah, well, I could say "Hey, dead woman, sorry you're dead. Boo-hoo."
B: She was a nice woman. Until she went senile.

Running Down A Dream

And, as all conversations should, our conversation led to The Rock. I had mentioned that I was being mocked by my co-workers on Christmas Eve for my love of The Rock and his beauteousness. I was defending the movies The Rundown and Walking Tall. This is as true to the actual words I said.

DM: And he had the big stick and then he was beating people up with it and there was the guy who was just standing there and he said boo and the guy ran into a pole!

My co-workers stare at me.

DM: And he's shiny!

My co-workers mock me mercilessly for the rest of the day. They are male though, so probably don't appreciate the shininess of The Rock. I do, though. My dream? The weird one? Yeah, Brock? He was played by The Rock. Good dream.

Anyway, I was telling Beth about the mocking and how Mike F was very happy I was being mocked when I emailed him about it.

B: I didn't really think much of him until I saw The Rundown.
DM: Oh, yeah (drawn-out. More like Ohhhhh, yeeeeeeeaaaah).
B: The thing with the two shotguns when he cocked them.
DM: Oh, God (again with the drawn-out words. Ohhhhhhhh, Gooooooddd. There might have been a whimper). I just had a moment over shotguns.
B: Lock and load, baby. Lock and load.

Then we had to watch The Rundown. And the scene with the shotguns? We watched it twice. And I smoked a cigarette because seriously, that's the closest I've come to sex in 7 freakin' years!

*Where The Title Comes From

Beth looks at me. She says something about us being nerds.

B: Well, at least we don't play D&D.

We have a moment laughing about this because we are thinking of the post when she wrote about her day and the guy who announced to all of IHOP what a man he was.

DM: Um. Actually, I did play D&D.

She looks at me. That pitying "Oh, my God, you're such a dork" look.

DM: Well, actually, it wasn't D&D exactly. It was about robots.

Her look morphs into the "How are we friends?" look.

DM: Yeah, because that's even dorkier. Robot D&D. But my robot had a cool name. You had to choose a name that was both letters and numbers and I picked 2BRNOT2B.

I pause, while I remember playing this game. Once. Because my first boyfriend dragged me to it.

DM: Yeah, because I'm not just a robot D&D nerd. I'm a Shakespeare nerd.
B: Someone tried to teach me to play Magic once. I didn't get it. I thought it was stupid.
DM: Hey! I played Magic. I liked it. I was the only girl in a group of guys.
B: But they were Magic playing guys. How hot could that be?
DM: Well, there was one guy that was hot. I loved him. God, what was his name? Anyway, he was a school teacher and one night, after everyone had crashed from playing Magic, we had a conversation about how we were perfect for each other except that we shouldn't be together. Good times.

And Where The Insanity Continues Into The Next Day

Beth wakes up and comes out into the living room. I am typing on the computer. We exchange greetings.

DM: Hey. I am really glad you have a towel bra in your bathroom.

She, for obvious reasons, stares at me blankly.

DM: Not a towel bra. A towel bar. I just wrote about me scrapbooking in my bra. Anyway, I'm glad you have a towel BAR in your bathroom because when my foot fell asleep this morning when I was going to the bathroom, it was really helpful it was there. It was all that kept me from falling face first into your bathroom wall when I stood up. And I thought "Things to be thankful for. I'm glad Beth has a towel bar in her bathroom."
B: And thankfully it was not a towel bra.

Previous Comments:
At 5:00 PM, brooksba said...
DM,Hee, hee! Ha! Uh-HA! I can't describe the horrid laugh that escaped from last night's conversations.First off all, when you wrote the post about the dream, you used the name Rock, not Brock. That's funny. I didn't say Magic was stupid, just that I didn't get it. You added words there. I don't think it's stupid, just not overly cool. And it's not that the game itself is uncool, it's just that most individuals I've found that play the game tend to be 35 years old and live in their mother's basements. That was seriously fun last night. I enjoyed it. We are crazy and I can't believe you (we) shared these moments with the world, but they are funny.Love,Beth
At 11:46 AM, Firebear said...
Thank you for sharing!I have decided not to make any bra comments, but thanks for the images.The Rock is cool. I would also suggest checking out Edge. He is very cool.We are looking for an extra player in the D&D group...Hope the holidays were good! Hugs! Larry
At 12:55 PM, CarpeDM said...
Who is Edge?