There’s an ice cream you should know

It’s called fossil fuel. And it’s totally out of control in its goodness.

But oh my. The fossil fuel was a cheers to my friend C, who happens to be in a relationship that at its best might be considered fair, and at it’s worst, apparently like being in a relationship with stana. Who on earth is stana, you might ask, and I would reply, satan, it’s just that I am completely messed up.

So V and I went to a lesbian bar in efforts of purely seeing her options I guess. But instead of options was a confrontation of an acid trip gone bad, in say, 1969. This woman, of course having gotten up some five to ten minutes before we got there, came back to claim her seat. By claiming I mean, “Yeah, I knew that would happen, if I just got up”. Me: “Well I am sorry. But it doesn’t mean I am going to move right now. Try me in five minutes and I will go, but right now, we have the seats”. Approximately three minutes pass and she says, “you do know you are wrong for taking my seat. How rude!”. Me, “Did you hear her C, you are so wrong for taking her seat”. She proceeds to wax on and on about mean people and bad things happening. And I say something about knowing about bad, and bad things happening. I say “you have no idea, sweetheart, none”. But she, instead, the dulled down blade of her wit showing says, “You bring it on yourself then.” Riigght.

Forget this woman, I say to V, have your seat back. You wenchy old beast. I am so sick of people walking on me and attempting to outwit that at this moment I think of nothing but her fascination with Stevie Nicks, and how she is so obviously not worthy of this woman’s admiration, an anthrax and paralyzing potion waiting to fully bloom.

I do also know that in my altered state, although I can be funny, I am also absurd. And will most likely delete this ramble.

V, my lovely pal. I tell her true love is not with conditions, it is without. It is accepting all bad and good in someone without making rules to their behavior. True love is not someone telling you who you can hang out with, and kicking you out when the undesirable’s existence is known. True love is knowing that no matter what, someone’s got your back, and isn’t afraid to show it. True love is a release.

True love is a state of mind we all wish for ourselves. When it doesn’t happen, we have this way of punishing ourselves, patterning ourselves in the images of our family.

I said all of this, drunk with stoli and alcohol fueled wisdom. Then I showed the bouncer of the bar next door my ice cream…and now I have an ikea bed to freak out over.

Worship me. Because I so obviously stank.

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