so obviously desperate, so desperately obvious
tuesday messages me out of the blue, even though i am secretly hiding under the pretense of being "away" on msn.
"bubble...." her little message box pops up "are you coming out on wednesday?"
errm, did i miss something? i thought that most get togethers were well spaced, with enough time for a person to maybe regain a shred of dignity before venturing out to totally lose it all over again in a similiar situation. apparently i was wrong. but things got worse.
"you told me a little secret on saturday night." the little box stares accusingly at me, the letters forming words that i thought maybe weren't true. oh bloody hell, oh jesus. [maybe i should say jaysus!] mary mother and joesph...humsboy is turning the ripe old age of nineteen on wednesday, and since i professed my undying love for him in a drunken state to tuesday on saturday night, apparently it's a necessity that i join the maurading crew for a session of bar hopping in the market. [is nineteen still cradle robbing debauchery??]
can anyone dig a hole- really deep, and i want it done really quick- to save me from the massively embarassing situation i think i am about to embark on?