Update on the Karma

Where to begin...

First of all, all three of you should really start checking out Mark Titus's 'Club Trillion' blog. Greatest. Blog. Ever. (Sorry Higgy. Still have your Snuggie if you want it.) It has inspired me to pack my posts with visuals. Hope you like it.

Second of all, I only cried once this Christmas, and it was over something relatively dumb. I'm proud. Most Christmases end up with me pouting in my room, not unlike a 5 year old. However, the difference between said 5 year old and myself - present disappointment vs. familial disappointment.

As previously discussed, my sister is a little bit of a bitch. After the description she so vividly painted for my friend a few weeks ago, we're not on such great terms. Therefore, when P, my crush from like 6th grade, was invited to the house on the night of Christmas Eve, I made sure she was grounded to her room. We haven't seen each other in about 10 years, give or take some months. Pretttttttttttty sure he would beat it (and not in a good way) if there was a bomb like that dropped on him on his first visit since the nineties. Problemo numero uno avoided-io(?).

Problemo numero dos - my stepfather. Once again, this was touched on in the previous post. His stories about me are appalling. I not only look like that revolving door, but also makes it appear that I am world's dumbest (insert title here). Not cool. One of the examples: I was driving to work when I was 16 in my mom's van when I noticed something felt funny. Well, I had money to make, and I had 8 miles to go, so did you think I pulled over to check it? No. Sooo much easier to just ignore it and keep going. I didn't have a cell phone, so me checking would involve me asking someone for help. Help is for losers, and as I am clearly not one, my ass kept movin. Well, big mistake. The funny thing I noticed happened to be a flat tire. Okay, maybe not flat. More like shredded. I know you just looked at that and thought, nah, "Meg's exaggerating, it was probably more like this". I kid you not, friend. I did indeed shred the damn thing to the point that the picture illustrates. Too bad my step dad is never allowed to read this blog, he'd be thrilled with my illustration... Okay, back to the story - I get to work, park, and assess the damage. I call my step dad saying specifically "I have a flat". He curses at me over the phone. Not a great start. He comes over to the parking lot (mind you it's mid-January) in his Carhardts and immediately freaks the fuck out. So much so that I didn't even get a lecture. Just the silent treatment. I'm very worried at this point. Verbal assault would be much more welcome. I decide to egg him on a little. Great idea. I lean out the window and yell, "How bad is it?". I got all the yelling I needed to feel comfortable with my situation. And then some. He tells this story every opportunity he gets. Which, is apparently a lot given lil sis's cute comments. In light of this, and so many other stories step-daddy has on hand, I asked him to keep quiet upon P's visit. He agreed.

Problemo numero tres - my brother. He scheduled himself to work 5p-5a Christmas Eve. Quick crisis aversion.

I am set. I invite P to come over after dinner. He stops in, talks to the parents for a hot minute, and we quickly scurry downstairs to watch Elf. Alone. In my parent's basement. How cool am I right about now? So it is all I dreamed it would be and so much more. I know, I know, this blog is supposed to be about you feeling better about yourself for reading my life failures. Well, too bad this time, I hope. It was not one ounce of awkward, not even a drop. We even made out. How pumped am I? No, nothing else, thank you, this was the first date. I usually try to keep things clean until at least the second date, unless I'm drunk. (Kidding, kidding, kidding... mostly.) The next night - Christmas - we go to the movies. Another fantastic time. This actually counts as a date. First one since fooooooooooorever. People don't date anymore. P is obviously a keeper. Oh, and he held all the doors for me!! Without me awkwardly waiting for him to do so! (Germaphobe.) Last night I met his family, again, and it was amazing. I've never had such a smooth conversation with a guy's parents. I could have passed out at the dining room table if I weren't confident it would leave the situation much more awkward than I would care for. I also went out with his friends and didn't make an ass out of myself. I'm sold. We have date 4 today at some point. I'm feeling shockingly confident.

Now let's get back to what this blog is really about - disappointment. P was the cool kid who was five years older than me. Also, P is highly successful at his job, and not awkward in the least. Also a fabulous dresser. And he's dating me. I am positive I do not have a sparkling personality. If anything, I am sarcastic and cynical enough for 3 people. I haven't been able to control this quality with the utmost grace, so I think he has an idea I can be relatively negative (yeah, I know, relatively is a stretch.) Also, I was such a dork when he met me. Hooooow can he erase that image from his head so quickly? Also - I am no Carmen Electra. Obvi. Any guesses here peeps? What should I prepare myself for here? Ughh the agony of a successful relationship...