Princess of Irony

More than a nun, less than a paid professional.

Issue Date: Tuesday, Feb. 06, 2007

It is so gorgeous outside today. I actually left the building during my scheduled lunch hour. I went to the bank and picked up take out from Taco Bell (mmm healthy), but that isn�t important. What is, is this. It is currently 3 degrees in Green Bay. And according to Jim (what I have cleverly named the little weather channel at the bottom of the 3tacon page. See? Here, say �Hi� to Jim. Scroll down a bit.) it feels like -9 degrees. NEGATIVE NINE.

According to the weather channel doohickey on NBC51.com it is 69 degrees in Dallas. And it feels like� 69 degrees. If you know what I mean, and I think you do; you little cheeky monkey.

So. Negative nine huh?

When the weather gets like this (this = San Diego-ish) in Dallas people want to be outside. Everyone is walking to lunch. There are motorcyclists tooling around en masse. When the weather gets nice, and believe you me� it is a very short window. Texas goes from nice/chilly to wishing-you-could-take-off-your-skin hot in about four hours. That will probably happen the weekend I am in Green Bay for the 3tacon, I will leave wearing a sweater and the lime green wool pimp hat* so my head will not freeze clean off and come home to people wearing flip flops with red sweaty faces.

*I totally got a lime green pimp hat. My mother picked it out and I love it. I will be shunned� or commended; it could go either way really.

Y�all have read (orrrr� maybe not) about my history with motorcycles in the past� and my proclivity for being sorta** slutty.

**We�re speaking in relative terms here. Don�t judge me.

Seriously. This ties in together somehow.

Bear with me.

So I was riding around today during my lunch hour and I went to this branch of my bank that I have not visited before to make a deposit. There were motorcycles in front of me, motorcycles in back of me, several motorcycles passing other cars on the broken white line (STUPID) and about twelve parked at this shop (::cough::pawn shop::cough::) that I passed. I blinked and looked up at the shop�s sign while at a red light. And then I remembered. I dated*** a guy that worked there.

***We met at a dance club, used to email, talk on the phone, go dancing and have a lot of sex. If that is what you want to call dating. And for this example, I think it works just fine thankyouverymuch****.

****Shut up.

And in my head I was all, �Oh� no� did I include him on the list? Shit.�

So there I was, driving around North Dallas counting with my fingers the people on the list. I was thinking about what my parents would say if they knew. Hell, I wonder what I would say if they ever asked me, �So, before you married Mister and you were previously married to X, and that guy we caught sending you love letters in highschool�� My mother interjecting, �[Dad�s name], those were total porn letters.� �Okay, so they were porn letters and you probably slept with him� how many men have you been with?�

First off. I would run screaming. Because, ew. And secondly, I don�t think I would be quick enough to say, �More than a nun, less than a paid professional.� I would totally want to use the word �hoor� (who-er) instead of paid professional, but again� um. Ew.

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