Confession

Hi. As you all know, I like to be brutally honest when talking about my past transgressions. This weekend I was reminded of something extremely shocking that I have done.

I hope that you will all find it in your heart to forgive me and will not "kick me to the curb" or stop reading my blog. Please, please don't abandon me. I can't live without your love and adoration.

As your Queen of the Universe, I could simply command you to love and adore me but I like to allow you all free will, the right to choose, and refuse to use my powers of mind control to turn you all in to my happy workers, with the occasional celebrity turned sex slave (you must marvel at my restraint here, people. Have you seen Keanu Reeves? Or Gary Dourdon? Or even Lenny Kravitz or Rowan Atkinson? Could you imagine the harem I could have if I would just break down and use my powers for evil?). Please ignore Bryan who claims I am evil. You know, on my quest for the perfect nickname, I never expected it would be Evil Dana.

But no, I can't do make you give up your right to adore me all on your own. I will, instead, tell you my tale of depravity and hope you can find it in your hearts to accept me for who I am.

The reminder came at Fridleykins this weekend. I was hungry so I persuaded Beth to stop. At the table across from us, there were four people. Probably 18-20. There was Hefty Boy, his girlfriend, Whiny Girl, and their friends - Sunglasses Boy and Tattoo Boy. I must also confess that I had inappropriate thoughts about Tattoo Boy because he was wearing a cut-off gray t-shirt, had slightly spiky hair, a swimmer's build (muscular but not too muscular) and a tattoo (hence the name Tattoo Boy). Mmm, yummy. The fact that I technically could be old enough to his mother did keep me from holding him down and licking his neck. That and I think Beth would probably not bail me out of jail for public lewdness. Although is licking actually being lewd? Perhaps I could say I thought I was a cat. It would be a good insanity plea.

Anyway, the young'uns were playing Magic. I used to play Magic years ago and thought it was a lot of fun. In fact, I mentioned this to Beth once, which I shared with you in this post (towards the end but it is a fun post about what dorks Beth and I are). If you've never played, it is a card game and kind of a role playing game. Think D&D on cards. You have all of these different creatures and you are in control of them and then you battle against other people. Tattoo Boy was looking through a binder filled with cards and I was very tempted to ask if I could see it because the cards not only have a description of what the power of the creature is, it also gives you some of the history of the world of Magic. Such as a quote from a myth (which is weird because it's a fictional world with fictional myths. But well written) or a poem or something. Anyway, they're cool and the artistry is amazing. Trust me on this. And yeah, I am kind of a nerd.

But my thoughts of asking if I could look at the binder was stopped by Whiny Girl. Sunglasses Boy was holding a green alien statue. Whiny Girl wanted to see the statue. And boy, did she let everyone in her vicinity know this! The following conversation took place.

Whiny Girl (WG): Let me see the alien.
Sunglasses Boy (SB): Why?
WG: Let me see the alien.
SB: No. Not until you tell me why.
WG: Let me see the alien.
SB: Why?
WG: Let me see the alien.
WG: Let me see the alien.
WG: Let me see the alien.
WG: Let me see the alien.
DM (under her breath to Beth): Give her the damn alien.
SB: Why do you want it?
WG: It’s a joke. I want to show you a joke.
SB: No. Tell me why.
WG: Let me see the alien. I can’t tell you because then it won’t be funny.
Hefty Boy (HB): Give her the alien.
SB says something I don’t hear. HB appears to be somewhat upset over this and tries to take the alien from SB. There is a tussle over the alien that is quite amusing but I don’t want to openly stare at them so I miss the part where HB hits SB on the head.

SB starts sulking. Which, honestly, who can blame him? If I went around hitting Beth because she wouldn’t give my boyfriend the alien statue, I would expect Beth to either a) sulk or b) kick my ass or c) never talk to me again (the correct answer would be b and c)). HB starts explaining his actions that he was just tired of hearing WG say over and over again “Let me see the alien.” WG tries to get SB’s attention. SB won’t look at her. He stares off into space stoically. HB then tells him that he was lucky that all he did was hit him in the head.

I ask you, how would you respond if your friend tells you that you’re lucky that he only hit you in the head? I would probably ask “Was my head on fire? Were you rescuing me from a gigantic bug of some sort? Because, if you were not, there’s really not much that excuses hitting a friend in the head.” But SB doesn’t say anything and continues to stare into space, possibly looking for the alien’s family to come and save him from his horrid human friends.

Finally, WG manages to get SB’s attention. She takes the alien and the green Beanie Baby bear that was also sitting on the table and holds them up.

WG: Look!

She takes the alien and moves the bear close to it.

WG: This is how you get green babies.

SB stares at her. I can understand why he is staring at her dumbfounded. I feel the same way. This is why she subjected him and I and everyone else surrounding her to the “Let me see the alien” ad nauseum? Good Lord, woman!

The Magic table soon leaves shortly after that. A little while later, Beth and I hear voices. A lot of voices. A new group of people is approaching. We watch as the following procession occurs.

Woman wearing long black skirt slit up to waist. She may or may not be wearing black shorts underneath it.
Normal looking (clothing and hair) woman.
Tall man with the majority of his head shaved except for the very top and the 7-10 inch braid hanging down the back. Odd clothing.
Normal looking (clothing and hair) woman.
Woman with black skirt, black bustier, top hat, black hair with blue and green florescent streaks.
Another man who appears to be clothed somewhat normally.
Another goth appearing man.
Woman with cool black fedora and extremely heavy make-up.

Beth quickly scribbles in her notebook. She passes it to me. I read this “A Tom Petty video has just walked into Perkins.” I look over the group. Yes, I do believe she may be right. I think it might be the video with the aliens. Don’t get us wrong, we love Tom Petty (even though he may or may not be dead (we found this website where this guy was convinced Tom Petty was dead and there was a fake Tom Petty and the website guy had analyzed the songs to prove it (Beth and I spent a good half hour laughing hysterically over this))) but watching his videos right before going to bed can cause some extremely strange dreams.

Anyway, moving on the confession part. Monday, I was telling Keem about the Magic playing table and she asks, incredulously, “Do people still play that game?” I am offended by this. I used to love playing Magic. It was great. I was the only girl that played and I got a lot of attention and, you may have a hard time believing this, I love attention. Especially from men. Even if they are Magic playing, nerdy men.

It is while I am telling Keem that I used to love playing Magic that it hits me. A memory so painful that I have blocked it for years, due to the amount of shame I had. Oh, the horrors. I am almost choking as I type these words, choking on my tears, afraid of your rejection. Please continue to love me, Internet. There ain’t no sunshine when you are gone.

I…once…played…Strip…Magic.

I know. I mean, how absolutely nerdy can you get? Strip Magic? Have you ever heard anything more pathetic? I remember this clearly now, sitting in the basement of one of the guy’s house, agreeing to play this. If I remember right, there was not even alcohol involved. You would think I would have to be drunk or even stoned to agree to this. But no. I was sober.

I remember that I was shocked when the guys I was playing with decided to gang up on me. Usually, when we played, they were very helpful and would give me advice. If I tried to do something that wasn’t going to be effective, the person I was going into battle against would make suggestions as to which of their creatures I should attack. All of a sudden, it was a no holds barred attack on Dana. No helpful suggestions, no advice, no help of any sort.

I couldn’t believe this and made an exclamation of dismay when one of them, I think it was Dillon, the kind of slow, married man who was always so nice to me, viciously attacked one of my creatures.

DM (me): Hey! Why are you picking on me? What did I do?
Dillon: Dana. You’re a girl. You’re the only girl here. Do you really think I want to see any of these guys naked?
DM: But I’m not sexy! My breasts sag!
Dillon: Female breasts are sexier than male breasts. Sagging or not sagging, I’d rather look at your breasts then Reth’s (the guy who I was crazy about mentioned in the post that talks about what dork’s Beth and I were).

Fortunately, a typical game of Magic takes approximately an hour to play, even when you’re being trounced by six to seven other players. Even though I was defeated five times, I was wearing two shoes and two socks (thank God, I typically went without socks in the summer) and one shirt. As I sat there, in my bra, I was truly worried that I was going to lose again since it did not look good for my few remaining creatures.

And then I heard the thing that saved me from baring my breasts. The garage door opening. Our host’s wife had returned. He turned to me and hissed “Quick! Put your shirt back on.” There were groans of disappointment from the other guys. We were sworn to secrecy from the married men. One of the single men, as he watched me put my shirt on, muttered “Dammit. I was one turn away from nipples.”

He was right. As we finished the game, I did get defeated once again. The single guys tried to convince me that I owed them a glance at my naked breasts and I laughed. Holding up my arm, I said “What makes you think I was going to take off my bra next? I still have a watch.” The argument then ensued over whether a watch could be considered a piece of clothing.

You will be pleased to know that I was never talked into playing Strip Magic again. I no longer play Magic and sold my cards many years ago. But sometimes I kind of miss it. There was a lot of fun about being the only girl in a group of guys, the minor flirtation, the laughter, the fact that we could talk about anything and everything (our discussions ranged from Shakespeare to the merits of the Porky trilogy (for the record, I am pro-Porky One and Two but thought Three was a bit stupid (Hey, I have a weird sense of humor. You should have figured that out by now))), reading the different cards and being with a group of people that got what you were talking about and would not laugh at you when you described one of your favorite Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes (okay, yeah, they did but they would also describe their own favorites).

I hope this story has not filled you with disgust for me, dear Internet. If you will still be my friend, I will be thrilled to tell you other stories of my life. It will be fun AND exciting.

Trust me on this.