Work is over, I should be getting ready for bed, Lora and I have exhausted our daily dose of text messages that mean nothing concecutively but individualy, they make perfect sense. We finally just pick up the phone and chat. How do our conversations begin? With stories. We don’t bother with the Hi-how-are-you’s? We know we’re a mess and thats what makes us…us.
Immediately we chat about the dudes we hate and one very special dude we despise right now…our bff’s bf. HA! Not many people I hate but this kid, yep, he wins the prize. And he knows it. Lora had dream recently about them having a baby together, La Bamba style…
“She had a girl, we named her Brenda”.
Lord help us, I hope this never happens. I may one day regret writing this post. Maybe when I’m attending the wedding of the happy-ish couple. But until then, I’ll just have to stand behind freedom of speech. That is until she makes me take the post down.
The conversation has moved on. Lora almost ran into her ex this weekend which would have been bad. She was feeling like a gorilla in a sweater…and I was meeting Coolio. The weekend was epic for the both of us.