Worse thing I ever said?

While listening to the Mel Gibson rant filled recordings, I wondered if any of my words would haunt me . . .
Thinking the worst thing I ever said was to the alcoholic ass boyfriend. During a particularly frustrating weekend of arguments, I told him I didn't understand how he could sleep with both eyes shut.

"What does that mean?" he slurred.

"I just don't understand how you shut both your eyes and sleep, knowing how much I hate you right now. And knowing there's an loaded gun in the house. Knowing those two things proves you're not as smart as you think you are."

I should probably feel ashamed but I don't. Besides, he probably didn't remember hearing it.

As my pastor once asked, what good is suffering? What can come from it?
For me, it is empathy.
I understand why folks can scream hateful words or fantasize about shooting their spouse in the face.

With you but thinking of someone else

everyone here
knows that everyone here

is thinking 'bout somebody else

"Back 2 Good" by Matchbox 20

The song is about being with someone you don't love and realizing the ramifications later but it also makes me think about how many times I've wished that I were with someone other than my present company.
When I was a teen, I imagined being on vacation, standing on a Colorado mountain with my boyfriend instead of my family.
The angst of my local boyfriends not being my New York crush of all time.
College beaus that weren't another guy I really wanted.
Vacations with friends that could be imagined with the missing part of my heart.
Christmas and New Year's celebrations in the right setting but with the wrong person.
Though I've lived alone for over 20 years, I never felt so lonely as the time I sat in a noisy French Quarter bar holding the hand of my boyfriend of 2 years while New Orleans Saints fans cheered and partied at the thought of finally going to the playoffs in the 1991 Wild Card game. He wasn't THE ONE and I had known for quite a while. At the time, I didn't even know WHO I wanted, I just knew it wasn't him.
Thinking about that today, perhaps feeling a bit hormonal, makes me sad.
If you are with the person that you would hope were there, you are blessed.
If not, change it.
For me, sometimes nobody is better than somebody.

When I see blood, I usually faint

But one time, the sight of blood made me laugh.
Hard.
So hard that I almost fainted.

Back in the early 1990's or so, Chrysanthemum (Lynn) came for a Mardi Gras weekend visit. After drinking all day and standing outside after the parades had ended, she and I got our eyes stuck on a New Orleans water meter cover.

For such a utilitarian object, it is quite beautiful. She and I pondered alternate uses for them, like really cool stepping stones or rugged kitchen counter trivets . . . before we could finish our 40 ouncers of beer, we were trying to pry it from the sidewalk. Nope, a kitchen spatula eventually did the trick. We did have the presence of mind to steal MY cover because it would shift any suspicion from me. Well, it made sense at the time. But even in our drunkenness, safety was key. The open hole in the ground was a hazard so we rolled up a 24 pack beer box and wiggled it into the now uncovered hole. The box nicely protruded from the hole and alerted others to the danger. We laughed and giggled as we carried the heavy cover to her car.

The following Monday I was relaxing in my apartment when my boyfriend entered with a pant leg rolled up, a nasty gash on his shin and blood tricking down to his socks.

"Some idiot stole your water meter cover!"

Laughter~~

"What are you laughing at? I parked and walked around the back of my truck and my foot went down the hole!"

More laughter~~

"I am lucky I didn't break my goddamned leg!"

Shrieks of laughter~~endless giggles.

Finally, I was able to sputter out, "Didn't you see the box?"

"WHAT box? What is wrong with you? I almost broke my leg and someone stole your cover!"

It took forever before I could tell him that Chrysanthemum absconded with the cover and I aided and abetted her with the theft and no, I couldn't help him bandage his leg because blood makes me woozy.

I still laugh every time I remember this story.