Brownie Box

First off let me say how relieved I am that I no longer have to buy people gifts anymore and can now rest assure until next year that all my money is going to myself. And perhaps a few things for the demons. 


No shoes but I did get this bad ass drawing tablet I put to use for a couple of drawings below, don't mind them I am experimenting. 


I had a great Christmas, but now that shit is over so let's move the fuck on. 


This story happened 6 years ago.


When I first met Derek he lived in this super bachelor pad of an apartment.
By super bachelor pad I mean shit was a mess. And there were a few other issues I had. One: he lived with another man in his 30's; two: his apartment was tiny and; three: he had 3 cats. Not one or two but 3 fucking cats. 

Oldest cat was the meanest, boy cat pissed on everyfuckingthing and a girl cat that acted more like a dog. 


A grown ass man living with another man in a itty bitty apartment with only one bathroom the size of my closet with the most horrible lighting ever and three cats was hard for me to come to terms with. HARD. 
Why the hell did Derek have so many cats? Why was this apartment so tiny? How come the only food he had was Bagel Bites? Why is his roommate always playing video games and hogging up the couch? Why did it smell like that? Did he ever think about moving? What the fuck was I thinking? Why did he have so many cats? And most importantly how long had this been going on? 


On one of my trips to his apartment his momma cat sniffed around my shoes and while Derek said "Ohh I think she really likes you, she doesn't like anyone." As soon as that was out of his mouth his psychotic cat dug her claws in my legs and started scratching me up. I almost kicked her head in. Really YEAH Derek she really liked me.   


I soon realized that his apartment was not only messy it was a disaster. 
This went unnoticed for a while, then like after a long nights drinking you finally wake up devoid of  beer goggles and you become aware of that ugly stranger sleeping next to you and it hits you. The actuality of doing it. You throw up and get the hell out of there as fast as you can. You just seen all of your passion makers details. This is never good. Never ever. You throw up again. 


It was like that with the apartment.

One day I woke up and suddenly became conscious of it all. The dirtiness enclosed in such a small area that didn't seem to bother Derek or the roommate. It was gross. I asked him if he ever cleaned. His version of cleaning is picking things up and putting them in piles. I highly doubt that any cleaning was ever done other than that first trip I made to his room. He tossed everything in the closet to give the illusion that it was clean. He did say that a few friends offered to clean up for him. Hello Derek that is the biggest hint one can give.  


I took it upon myself to clean that shit city up. I went to the store and loaded up with all of the essential shit city cleaning supplies I needed. I got all I could and I was still unsure if it was even enough. 
It took me so fucking long to even know where to begin.  
From there it was all scrubbing, sweeping, washing, dusting, scouring, mopping and whatever the hell else there was to do. 


Remember I said he had 3 gato's. Those fuckers didn't make cleaning any easier.
Let me say this about cat urine if you have never had the pleasure. 
It fucking reeks. FUCKING REEKS. 
BAD. 
I hate cat pee smell. 
If there is one thing in this world that gets me angrier than stupid people, gaining weight, being hungry and slow drivers it's cat piss. 
Derek said his boy cat would pee on any sort of clothing, cloths and towels or anything left on the floor which made me want to slam his big ass furry head into the wall when ever I accidently left something on the floor. I lost a lot of good clothes that way. 
Derek tried to act like washing it in hot water would take the smell out.
It didn't. 
It was ruined for life. 
There was no going back.
I sure as shit was not going to be wearing any clothes that ever so slightly smelled like kittie tinkle and glowed under black lights. Fuck that. 


They did have a litter box and I had to constantly remind Derek of his furry parental duties. That's when shit got bad. If he left it for to long his cats got pissed and shat and urinated everywhere. 
I left that for Derek to deal with because getting close to the litter box had to be hazardous. It made my eyes burn and I didn't last more than a few seconds before my lungs started aching. 


All day I cleaned and cleaned. 
I left the kitchen for last. 
Unprepared in a kitchen that has never seen a cleaner in who knows how many years is scary stuff. 
Grease was on almost every single surface and it appeared that these fellas lived off of their old microwave and a butter lubricated George Foreman grill. I am not kidding either. It didn't seem like any cooking on the stove was ever done. Where the grease came from? Who the fuck knows. It was like 20 year old grease. Caked on so thickly might as well been constructed purely from lard. I couldn't get it off for the life of me. 


I left it. Fuck that grease. 
I hit the fridge area very last. Opened it up to condiments expired 5 years ago, half empty bottles of juice, moldy ass left overs and boxes of what looked like Fairy Brownies in the freezer. Cereal boxes lined the top of their fridge with menacing sun faded pictures from many, many moons ago.  


What the hell? I was seriously questioning what I was doing trying to attempt this cleaning expedition by myself. Crazy perhaps? Yeah. That's it. Fumes from the kitty litter box finally killed most of my good senses. 


I started just throwing stuff away. Derek came home and started saying "Oh that looks like it still might be good." Trying to save what he could. 
"Really Derek? Because that shit expired when I was like 8 years old. It's getting tossed. LET GO! I swear to god if you pick that from the trash I am going to kick your ass!" 
This went on back and forth with most of his weevil infested pancake mixes and cereals. 
What is funny about that is I myself didn't even know what weevil's were at that point. We grew up poor and ate everything we had in house. There was never weevil's in our stuff. 


I finally make it to the freezer where the brownie box was and ask D "How long have you had these?" He hurriedly comes over and says "Those aren't brownies." Snatches it away and puts them back in the freezer. 
"Uhhh-okay. Well what is it then?" 
He looks at me with his long lashes and says "I don't want to tell you."
Really? Then walks away. 
Motherfucker. I just spent my day cleaning and possibly getting some sort of rash on my hands from your dirty shit and you don't want to talk about this brownie box? 

"Who got you those brownies?" 


Nothing 


"DEREK! Where did those come from?" 


Finally "I got those a long time ago from whats-her-face (bitch I do not like)" 


Oh shit. 
Fighting commences. 
I wanted to know but I was to pissed off/scared to look in the box. 


A few weeks later


Derek and I are drinking. At some point we are terribly intoxicated and I start asking about the mystery fairy brownie box. 
Derek is not a good drunk. He caved fast and told me. Haha Derek is easy. 
His brown eyes started getting watery and he starts telling me about what was in the brownie box. 


Flash-forward to the moment of pure whatthefuckness.

"WHAT! Are you fucking serious Derek, you have a box of 3 baby kittens in your fucking freezer?" Gag reflex went into extra gaggy mode. 
He explains what happened and I am still "WHAAAAAAT the fucking fuck?! Why would you keep 3 frozen baby kittens in a brownie box for that long?" 


We did the next best thing. We dug a hole next to the building and gave them a proper burial.
No Jesus pieces were used but we did pour one for the homies by way of beer. No 40's were available.  


The whole time I just thought that they were really, really old brownies from cunt face.  


True story. 
Rox

The Boy

The boy.
My boy is three years old. 
Highly intelligent humanoid child. 



Baby D
Don't let his sleeping face fool you. 


With a memory like one wouldn't believe. The boy remembers all. 
For instance last night he put his little monkey slippers on, walks torwads the garage and says "Remember I burned my foot on Halloween Mom?" 
How could I forget? He was wearing those same monkey slippers and he stepped on my candle! 
Shit I thought he would have forgotten about that! Hello, Halloween was like forever ago in children's age!  


We went to Flagstaff almost a year ago and played in the snow. Baby D was in a inflatable duck the whole time. It was sweet. Few weeks ago I was going through a box and came across some of our snow gear so I put it on the couch. Baby D said "Remember we went to the snow?" 
"Yeah I do son, how do you remember?" questioning his memory skills. "Can we go again?"


He remembers everything! Disneyland, Flagstaff, Halloween, Santa, his old friends, me yelling at daddy, it is becoming a issue of how to take back the stuff he remembers. 


He is super awesome though. Sometimes. But mostly he is evil. 
I am convinced that he absolutely knows what he is doing even though he gives me those confused line between the brows, head cocked to the side, what-are-you-talking-about-mom, bright eyed look. 
I am on to you little one. I AM ON TO YOU!


How does one stop a 3 year old from doing something that you absolutely hate? 

I have no fucking clue and need some help.  

Yelling and throwing pillows does not work. Neither does ignoring him.  
Hog tying him and tossing him in the closet seems like a bit much. 
Showing him the belt used to work, until he found out that it wasn't going to be used to spank his ass. It's purely for show. 
Withholding items might work but how ridiculous would it be to tell him he can't play games on my computer? He knows how to use my laptop more than my mother! Awww his tiny little fingers clicking on Dora games and hitting the space bar to jump. Damn it, it's just to cute to tell him no. Plus that is how Derek and I get to watch a dvr'd show we would never be able to watch if he was running amok. 


The issue: 

You see my son has this problem with rubbing his tiny man-junk all over the fucking house. 

Wait, I mean anywhere he can. Yeah that means when we go to a restaurant/store, wherever we go he will grind his shit into the table or seat. 


I come home from work & school after a long ass day hoping that when I close our louder than the devil's chainsaw garage door my children will run up to me and shower me with hugs, kisses and tell me how much they missed me and love me soooo soooo much. Instead I walk into my son playing games on my laptop while humping the floor. 


*Sigh


Seriously.
Is this normal? 
I didn't grow up with boys so I am not sure how to handle the floor/chair/couch/table/blanket humping situation. 
Sounds about right but Baby D does it excessively. 


I will yell "Pumpkin, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" He immediately picks himself up and looks at me innocently and yells "NOTHING MOM!" 
You just got caught kid, fess up! He won't though. 


I do tell him that I am going to tape his pee-pee if he doesn't stop.  
He starts running around in crazy circles and yells "DON'T TAPE MY PEE-PEE MOM!!!"
I have never done it so I really don't know why he is scared of the taped penis. 


Baby D has been doing this for a while. Maybe it's just a phase? 
Shit, please, please, please be a phase!!!! 
Did I mention he is only 3? Yeah only 3, tres, three, tri. 
What if he turns into some kind of rubbing monster and becomes obsessed by it? 
I will be screwed. School is going to be a fucking nightmare with him. 


I don't know how to handle little boys and their boy bits. Derek doesn't say much about it, making me assume that this is normal to him because he used to be that kid pulverizing his pelvis into the carpet. 


Oh my god, how am I supposed to handle it when he goes through puberty? 
Just ignore those giant crusty white stains on his sheets? (I heard this is what I have to look forward to) 
The massive amounts of tissues/lotion he goes through? (Dude, obviously I don't know what the boys will use in the future but I am sure lotion will be used still...right?) 
Please tell me it's not that bad? PLEASE! GO AHEAD JUST LIE TO ME. 


I think I am making myself sick right now. 
It's to late to give him back, he calls me mommy and last night he told me I was the best mommy in the world. Tears my eyes up. 


Damn it he is adorable. Advice welcomed on the boy-bits issue. 


Merry Christmakwanzahanukkah y'all, I hope I get the shoes I want.
Rox

Tha Man Jesus

This past Friday I was promised sushi for dinner, which after getting dolled up it was taken back. 


Derek. Damn it!  


The realization of how long it's been since I have had raw fish was just to tempting for me to let go. 
I did the next best thing, I called Jen and demand that we go have sushi. 


We had a holiday party at our office earlier that day and I had several beers throughout that time.
Having a few beers in me I thought why let the party stop there?  
So off we went for sake and sushi with my best bitch. 


We sat for a long while talking, drinking and laughing you know the usual night out with Jen. 
Unbeknownst to me it was going to change from a usual night to one of those wtf stange ass nights.


Shit got weird. 


One moment we are laughing in the bathroom the next we spilling our guts out, crying and driving to grab drinks at some other place. Location was not preselected so she just drove until we got somewheres. 


While driving our conversation went from family and turned into some religious powwow. 
Of course Jen knows that religion and I are detached from one another and have been for many years. She wasn't preaching but had her views on matters religion. I dismissed all of these righteous blabberings just to piss her off. But after a few I let her talk. 


I told her how the bible and I have many conflicting views. 
Which one? One of the many that are out there. 
She starts telling me that they are all basically the same with minor details differing. 
Then she asked me if I knew the story of "Tha man they be calling Jesus", I can't remember what I said but she took it upon herself to tell me the story of this man Jesus. 


Before I go on, I am not retarded I am aware of Jesus (pronounced HEY ZEUS) and his gang. I was raised Catholic. 


Ok on we go. 


Jen opens her mouth and all I remember is her saying:


"God created man and woman then decided to see how man would live and they fucked up because they was living in sin! THEY FUCKED UP!"


OHH that's what happened!


"Mary had a kid and JESUS was born! Yeah Jesus mothafucking Christ!" 
"Jesus tried to show people the way but theys wasnt listening then all kinds of shit happened."


Mmm, hmmm. Okay. 


"He died for our sins then later he fucking resurrected! FUCKING RESURRECTED!!" 


Skeptical me: "Really Jen?" 


Serious look "Yeah he fucking did! He came back from the dead that Jesus!" 


 What else? 


"All kinds of motherfuckers wrote the bible and it was their version of what had happened"  
"BOOM!! Religion. What up!"


Cliffnotes version of the bible according to Jen while intoxicated. 


It was funny at the time, my stomach hurt I was laughing so hard. I'm sure she said some other important events in the bible but I can't remember right now. 


Some other weird stuff happened but the story of Jesus was the highlight of the night. 


Oh Jen. You and your Jesus Christ stories. 

Rox

Vodka and I

Dear Vodka,


What the fuck happened on Friday? We had an agreement that you went sour on! You know what this means right? I fucking quit you. You lying son-of-a-bitch! You just had to creep up on me while I was asleep in a drunken slumber and make your way onto my bed. MY BED!!!!!!


Fuck you forever, 
Rox




Hey everyone. Let me explain my little bitter letter. (Try saying that 3 times fast)
I had a shitty Saturday day. Really, really shitty. 
You see Friday was spent at a birthday party in a club for my friends sister. 
I hate that place. It is infested with the type of people I try to avoid at all costs.
But it was an open bar. Yeah I know. Open bar! Can't say no to that. 
I didn't know that you could just walk up and ask for a beer and walk away without paying however much beer costs now-a-days. 
I did it. I got free fucking beer! 
YEAH FREE BOOZE! 
OH, OH, OH that wasn't the best part either. 
L's sisters got her a vip table along with three bottles of Grey Goose with mixers and a bottle of champagne.   
I knew this was not going to end well. 


Seriously, me and free booze are like an awful domestic violence couple. 
"Awe come back here vodka"
"What! FUCK YOU THEN, get the fuck away from me!"
"No I love you come back." *Sob
"Well I didn't want you anyway jackass! "
"I just want to love you Vod" 
"I promise I will stop doing this to us"
"WHAT? GO AWAY THEN I HATE YOU!!!"
Yeah...all bad. 


I did remember getting sad when I finished my umpteenth drink of orange juice and sir-stab-me-in-the-back Vodka. Sequence of event: 

hmm, I've seemed to have run out of drank

everyone else has drank

I have no drank

I hope this person poors me a drank

oh yes, thank you thank you

I got two drank!

What a freak!


Open bar seemed to loosen everyone up. Big time. Obviously. 
You should see the other pictures. They are priceless. I would post them but there to many. 


Anyway. I got super inebriated. 
Derek The Beard drove our lush asses home. Everything was blurry. Everything. 
I didn't even know what the hell was going on, I just remember laughing and talking way to loud. 
I felt fine overall but very blurry. 


We got home and I took off my lashes, necklace, changed and passed the fuck out. 


Then I woke up a few hours later to use the bathroom. 
I slowly rose and with eyes closed, lead myself to the toilet to empty the piss bag hoping that nothing was in the path between the bed and the toilet room.
While sitting doing my business, eyes still closed, halfway asleep and still very drunk I noticed my right boob was wet. 
Correction my shirt was wet on the right side, reason my right boobie was wet. I didn't understand why.


Until I got back to bed. 


Apparently I threw up on my bed while I was passed out. And I slept in it for hours! *Gag*


How could this happen to me? ME!
Was I really that passed out?  
No way. I swear I was dreaming that I was sick but I didn't throw up in this dream. Come on! 
Vodka was that you? Sneaky little fuck. 
I knew it. 


GOD DAMN IT! My bed was soiled and I was still drunk and tired. 
I left it how I saw it. Gross I know. 
I went to the front room and slept on the couch. Reeking of last night's vodka and vomit.


Oh my. I could have choked on my vomit and died in my sleep. That would have been very tragic.


Worst hangover of my life. I was literally sick all day Saturday. What a waste. I didn't do anything but shower and sleep. 


Reason I will never fucking have you again Vodka. NEVER! 
I am never forgiving you for this. 


Rox

The Beard

Derek. 
He has this thing on his face. 
The face I look at every fucking day. 


Derek has grown a beard that I fear will become this massive hair parachute that will cover all of Arizona soon. 


It just sort of became. I didn't ask for the beard. Sure as shit didn't tell him to shave it either. I suppose I would be at 50% at fault if all of Phoenix dies from asphyxiation from "the beard". 

Winter time could count for the fact that men get lazy just as I do when it comes to snipping my leg hairs. Just lazy. Derek just got lazy.  


Derek likes to name himself ridiculous names and now refers to himself as "The Beard". 



Derek "The Beard" Lastname aka Facial Fro Bro
God damn that fucking beard. 


Picture taken a week or so ago.


I know that Zach Galifianakis has something to do with this. 




Thanks IMBD


Damn it Zach Galifianakis I knew you would do this to us. 
Ever since we watched Due Date that beard has been growing.  
What the fuck Zach Galifianakis?! 
Reverse evolution? 
I am not understanding the facial fro. 


Maybe Derek is trying to do something for next Halloween. No? 
To be Zach Galifianakis maybe? 
I think this is his way of telling me he wants a shaver for Christmas. And to buy one for Zach Galifianakis too I think. 
Ohhhh he could be concealing my gift in the fro, what a perfect hiding place. Right? 
That or he believes his beard has magical powers just like his imaginary friend buddy Zachy.   


He does think that his magical beard gives him super strong strength for some reason. 
Jen called him and asked if he could help with some lights. She needed a man.  
His reply was: Yeah I'm a man, I have a beard! 
You also have man-junk you fool, beard just means you have a hairy face. 
I swear he's had that beard since he was 13. Mustache at 12. No joke. 
Being a man has nothing to do with that frothy ass animal on his face. 
Iv'e seen some notable mustaches on females and thick whiskered beards on some too. 
See it doesn't make one a man. Necessarily.  


When that shit is unkempt (yes a beard can be unkempt) he looks like a vagabond especially when he wears those Adida shoes that are falling apart at the seams but refuses to throw away. Believe me we almost jousted over it, I even was looking into a buying a lance until I got distracted by Stumbleupon (look it up it's pretty bad ass). 


It's not a patched beard either as you can see, it's moved in on restricted territory. D's face. 
It's quite impressive. 
Derek is a motherfucking hairy dude. 
I have never seen a beard on D. No scratch that. I have never seen a full blown mutton-chop on his face as such. 
I also have to thank Joaquin Phoenix for that massive frizz that was very inspiring to D. I'm sure.



Yeah thanks. 


Damn it Joaquin your head looks massive in that there picture. 
Maybe I should call Derek and ask for Joaquin Phoenix, see if he gets the reference. 
No...I'll wait it's not that long. Yet. 


Since we live like hermits our friends haven't got to see   Jesus' homeless baby brother  "The Beard" recently.   
This weekend he went to have wings by himself because I was out getting drunk somewheres. Our friend passed by him and says "He looks like my friend.....to much facial hair" and passes on by. It was him Xoch! Surprise! Mexi-santa Claws. 

*Check it son. Updated photo of the bum that's made his way into my home. 

Forgive the shirt. I don't know what the hell he was thinking here. Must be "Bum syndrome" I think. 
Ever since the beard took over our lives I am constantly getting the comb out to brush out the naps. Yes, the naps. Nappy ass beard. I peer into the darkness of the beard to see if there are any food particles left or animals that commandeered it for a home. 
I swear he reminded me of the twits, that Ronald Dahl book I read in like 4th grade. 
I keep reminding him to check his facial fro for remnants of condiments. I fear I will have to brush out moldy cheese from it soon. 
Shit be smelling if he doesn't shampoo it either. 


"Is that...is that Smash burger from like 3 days ago?!"
"What the fuck Derek?!! Go wash the facial fro dude, shit be reeking like homeless armpit." 
Fucking pube face. 
Yeah...FUCKING PUBE FACE. I said it. Me. Right here. 


I like the beard, but it's getting old now. 
The stubble was sexy as hell, I loved it. 
The beard is now getting out of control. 





Yeah. Out.of.control.


Derek is now a hobo. 

In real life. 

I don't remember what he really looks like anymore. 


Rox

Cultivated

Derek and I went to lunch few days ago and I just had to ask a question that has been haunting bothering me for quite some time. 


Me: "Derek, am I ever going to look like a grown up?"
Derek: "What? What does that mean?"
Me: "Well I feel like I don't look like a grown up. Compared to other people I mean."
Derek: ???? 


You see I noticed this a while back when I was a few years younger. 
I observed ladies that would walk/sashay into a place and look like adult women. You know grown-ups. 


Now me...well I still look like a kid. Sort of I suppose. Small tits don't help any either. 


Which isn't bad at all, but people tend to take me less serious than they would a grown ass woman. Get where I am going here?


Of course old ass ladies get the most respect because well....who gives a shit they just do. When it comes to my young generation they/we seem to fuck it all up. Look at the weird crap we did/do. It is horrible. Don't get me started on all of that I am just making a point. 


People just don't take me seriously (though most of the time they shouldn't) they think I am a kid and I just HATE, HATE, HATE when I hear some shit like cooing "Ohhhh your just a babyyyy."
SLAP IN THE FACE is what that is. 
What the fuck did you just say to me? 
Don't mock me with your condescending tone bitch, I will cut you!
A baby? No lookie here cunt that is only a few years older than me, my 3 year old isn't even a baby he is a toddler. I am no where near being a baby.
I have a house, a car that is paid off, a real motherfucking job, I have two kids and have been through possibly more shit than you have ever seen in your miserable life so don't go calling me a baby insinuating that I have no life experience to speak of. Fuck off you! 
Seriously this really gets me in a foul ass mood. Every.single.time. 


I am only (please hold let me check) 25 but still. 
When am I going to look like a grown woman? Ever?


Do I sound crazy? 
Shit. 
I knew this was going to happen.
I sound crazy. 


Derek tells me that if I keep burnin up them cigarettes I'll look a lot older with the wrinkles I will get from smoking. That is not the kind of older I was talking about. 
It's the presence of a more mature female that I meant, not the silvering hair or the crows feet. 
They just seem more sophisticated is all.
 And I well ....I like to say "fuck, shit, shut the fuck up, motherfucker, asshole, dickhead.... " the good words/gestures and the like. 
These are not really in the more refined womans vocabulary are they?
I don't hear these ladies talking about what my girlfriends and I talk about on a daily basis: rooster. Don't be scared Lady Sophistication it won't kill you to say penis once in your life. 
I refuse to give that up, I wouldn't know how to function in a world without the feel good words.   


Is it my stout little body that doesn't make look more...cultivated? 
Maybe its my posture? 
I just don't understand. 
Even my 3rd graders teacher looks at me like 'Are you her mom or her older sister?'


Fuck it, I'll stay young since I can't seem to develop any longer any way. 
Maybe someday I will look like a grown-up woman. 
Perhaps a Balenciaga bag and Christian Louboutins will help. No? Surely a child/baby can't afford those. 


Pssshh baby my ass. 
Don't call me baby unless you are my lover. 


Rox

Communications

I ran into a guy I had a communications course a few semesters ago with the other night while attempting to to quadratic functions. *I fail at math as you know. 
We reminisced about our class together and he reminded me of the last speech I did.

I felt my face get red because this was one of the most unsuspecting sentimental moments in my life and he along with the rest of that class witnessed it.   


Small communications...
This was one of the most interesting classes I have ever taken.
I grew a lot with this one. 
We did about six speeches in front of about 25 people that semester. 
It was really embarrassing at first, everyone's hands shook, voices quivered, faces flushed, stuttering occurred, sweating happened, "like" was said a tad to many times, it was very fun to watch when I wasn't the one making a fool out of myself. 
By the end of the semester everyone improved significantly, it was amazing. 
I noticed a difference in myself, especially after that magnificent Britney Spears speech I gave. 


About this last speech, it was supposed to be a "special occasion" address if you will. 
I was confused at first. 


What kind of speech?
Oh special occasion...I see, I see...
Hmmm, well what exactly constitutes a special occasional? While ideas swirled in that little brain of mine. 
Eulogy, wedding, valedictorian, graduation...that kind of special?
Ohhhhkay I get it...
I think


I was stumped with this subject. 
What in the name of David Hasselhoff's burgerific boogie night was I going to write and present? 
There was no way in Hades I was going to make some shit up and try to pass it off as "special occasion" jargon. 
It needed to be authentic. 
I needed to go out with a big bang.  


There was much deliberation and procrastination with this last speech. 
I thought long and hard. 
Then completely forgot about it. 
Until the day of class. 


We sat there for a while blank page and I sharing a whole lot of nothings. 
Then a burst of brilliance hit me almost last minute.
I was going to do a speech that was mostly a thank you of sorts to Derek. 


Words spilled onto page feverishly and next thing you know my thank you was complete.  
It was easier that I originally thought. 


The last speech night was the best because we had all past the embarrassment stage and weren't being recorded to critique ourselves any longer. Hallelujah! 
Of course I waited until almost last to go because I didn't know if a thank you was good enough to be deemed special. 

Naïve me. How cute. 

I stepped up to the mini stage paper in hand and started speeching like a whiz. 
I can't remember where I put that paper now BUT I do recall saying something equal to:


"If it wasn't for Derek I would have never found the courage and motivation to be doing all the things I'm doing...........(longest pause of my fucking life) .......in my life now..." Then more delay. Suspenseful delay! I finally composed myself and hurriedly continued to complete the almost, close to most embarrassing moment of my life right after falling in the mud while trying to show off in front of a boy I like so much in 3rd grade. 


What I didn't mention in that there paragraph was during that longest pause of my fucking life was that I had to stop and look up because immediately I felt my throat constrict and my eyes got hot and sweaty, I spewed out a hard ass sob for a millisecond I kept telling myself to think of old ladies in football gear or mini Big Macs dancing in tutu's but it didn't work out. Everyone was looking at me and waiting. 
"In my life now...."
Knot in throat got slightly bigger. Heart was pounding so loud. My ears were pulsating to the rhythm of my corazon. 
I slowed it all down and took a deep breath.
Just when I thought I had it together
Little old ladies in football gear, Big Mac tutu's....tutu's....gear of footballs...
I fucking started crying. 
In the middle of my speech. 
A speech about Derek being my biggest inspiration and motivation in my life. 
Fiery crocodile tears rolled down my face streaking my mascara CRYING. 


Yeah.
In.front.of.everyone.
I was mortified beyond anything I have ever known. 
Little me doesn't cry! WHO CRIES IN THE MIDDLE OF A FUCKING SPEECH? 
Apparently I do.   


I almost looked around to see if there was some kind of sad movie playing somewhere.
I didn't know where these tears came from or why this was happening to me.  
I wasn't supposed to be the one who broke down. 
That was strictly reserved for that lady who burnt the Virgin De Guadalupe on her toast and had a vision or that boy who got out of war stricken Somalia and almost died, not for my measly thank you. 


Once finished I quickly sat down, face burning mad fire, and just looked down at my dirty, scratched desk. 
I couldn't face the people after that little detonation. 


What the fuck happened up there? 
I never felt so exposed in my life. 


Jesus. 


So thank you George for making me re-live that moment. 
All though he did say that I made our instructor cry. He was touched. 
Apparently I made the whole class weepy. Score! 
Everyone loved it or maybe they just wanted to see someone cry at least once in that class. 


Yeah I'm awesome and went out with a bang as planned. 
You're welcome Com225.


Rox