yes. this was my sister's prom dress. she's barely five feet tall. i've got a good six inches on her. and yes. i wore this to a wedding. because i wanted to remind kyle that even though i spend every waking moment of the vast majority of our weekends together in lesbian sweatpants, i can be hot if i want to.
for instance, one of my rules is that i'm vegan. because having a brain-damaged-yorkshire-terrier-puppy-son makes me sensitive to animal cruelty. and because eating dairy causes me to - nevermind. but i'm a bad vegan. and i constantly break my own rule because i'm obsessed with trader joe's turkey meatballs. and kit kat bars. and i'm full of self-loathing. so i eat a lot of kit kat bars. and spend a lot of time wishing i hadn't.
another one of my rules is having a gym membership. because working out is an excellent way of alleviating stress. and sweating out the kit kat bars. i pay a lot of money for a fancy pants gym. but never really go. so there goes that rule.
i suppose those rules aren't so bad. and they actually prove that i've come quite far in life. considering what some of my rules used to be.
in high school: no drinking. no drugs. no kissing below the neck. no touching below the neck. no penetration till marriage. because gonorrhea is real.
in college: no drinking. no drugs. no kissing on first dates. no p in the v until marriage.
and then i started breaking rules. my senior year of college. when i discovered how pleasurable drinking is. and drive-by-makeouts-with-random-boys-at-bars. and i shit my pants with fear when i watched that episode of sex and the city. you know the one. where trey can't get it up.
and then my only rule was no drugs.
until last weekend. eight years later. when i discovered five-hour energy. which for all intents and purposes i will put in the same category as over-the-counter-cocaine. i am now officially a party girl. officially.
i've always been a late bloomer. so it makes sense that i've just figured out how to party. and i'm 30 years old. and that i still wear a training bra. and a retainer. and i take accutane.
what i will now expound upon is that asinine rule i had in college. the one where i didn't kiss on the first date. but i did kiss random boys in bars. to be clear, if a boy actually took me on a proper date, i did not kiss him goodnight. if i was drunk enough to have my body literally slung over a motor scooter because i couldn't stand up straight, then my alter ego emerged and i became a kissing slut.
makes no sense. whatsoever.
i dated a lot of d-bags in college. and pretty much all of them broke my heart. because i had unreasonably high expectations for how a college boy should be able to behave. and because i was a hopeless romantic. and because i was a huge prude.
"you didn't date those guys," rusty points out. "you went on A date. singular."
"whatever! you know what i mean!" i say, cramming another kit kat into my mouth and chasing it with a shot of five-hour energy.
"you're trying to make people feel sorry for you. like these guys were boyfriends or something. one date does not a boyfriend make."
"shut up. let me wallow in self pity. it feels good," i say, licking chocolate off my fingers. i notice a spot of chocolate on my lesbian sweatpants. dammit. i hate when that happens.
rusty's right, though. for most of college i didn't have a boyfriend. i had a series of single dates. that inevitably ended after one date. because of my stupid rules.
there was one date that i was particularly mad at myself about. and i think this date was a true turning point for me. because i became a raging whore shortly thereafter.
i met him at a club in hollywood one night when i was out with a friend. he gave me his business card. it said he worked for nasa. as a rocket scientist. i was immediately interested. shut up.
we arranged to go on a date. to a cafe i can't remember. and had lovely conversation. that i also can't remember. and then walked around ucla. at one point the topic of reality television came up. which at the time was really taking off. this was the early 2000's after all.
i said i thought reality television was contrived and stupid. i admit i've evolved since 2004. i now greatly enjoy reality television. in fact, it's a hobby of mine. i can't imagine my life without kim k, the real housewives, or jersey shore. i aspire to be on a reality show. rusty and me.
"really?" rocket-scientist-guy said. "because i was on survivor."
"shut the hell up," i replied.
"seriously. survivor amazon."
"well, i've never watched that show. and i still think reality shows are stupid. but good for you." admittedly i was a bit turned off that rocket-scientist-guy was now survivor guy. and i was equally excited to brag to my roommates.
after giving survivor guy the campus tour, we ended up on the ucla soccer field. and i'm not sure why or how, but he had a frisbee. so i kicked off my heels and we played for a bit. and it was really fun. and i was thinking how much i liked survivor guy. even if i did think it was lame that he'd been on a reality show.
we walked back to my apartment. he leaned in for a kiss. i pulled away. primly saying, "i don't kiss on first dates." i immediately regretted it. because he was pretty cute. and he was a rocket scientist. and he'd driven all the way from pasadena. which is, like, really far.
i never heard from him again.
OBVIOUSLY.
because i acted like a mormon. and nobody likes them. (except rusty.)
for a week i lamented the fact that survivor guy never called me. and then i completely forgot about him. like most guys i dated in college.
i graduated.
i moved to new york.
i got my braces off.
i lost 15 pounds.
i met kyle.
i adopted a son.
i got married.
i started a lame blog.
my life was complete.
and then i went to a wedding in boston. with kyle. for one of his friends.
and. i ran into. survivor guy.
in an effort to have enough energy to dance to every single song the dj played, i drank a five-hour energy. and since it had been a really long, stressful week at work, i drank seven cocktails. which is a huge accomplishment for me. hooray! because usually i can only drink one cocktail. before i'm wasted. and seven should have been enough to make me black out. but thanks to my new bff five-hour energy, i was the MOST fun i've ever been in my whole life. EVER. in fact, kyle said i was so fun that he didn't even feel like he needed to get drunk. which i will take as a compliment. yay me!
on one of my dance party breaks i hightailed it to the ladies'. where there was a guy waiting in line ahead of me. he introduced himself. but i was enjoying my buzz. so much so that i didn't remember his name. the door to the bathroom opened. and i walked off.
on my way back to the dance floor, kyle's friend james stopped me.
"jess, this guy used to live in california," he said by way of introduction. because i guess james thinks that everyone from california knows one another.
it was the same guy i'd seen by the bathroom. being buzzed out of my mind, i introduced myself. again. and he told me his name. he and kyle and i bantered for a bit about california. until kyle got bored and went to get a drink. and left me with this guy.
suddenly i asked, "did you used to work for nasa?"
"yes..." he said, a bit spooked.
"were you a rocket scientist?" i asked.
"yes..."
"were you on survivor amazon?" i asked.
"WHAT THE F&*$?!?!" he replied. "who told you to ask me these questions?"
"shut up," i said. "seriously. did you work for nasa as a rocket scientist and were you on survivor amazon? tell the truth. i'm drunk. don't f*&$ with me."
"i am being serious. someone here told you to say this to me," he said, looking around.
i couldn't believe it. after all this time. i was talking to survivor guy. i had no idea how i'd figured it out. because i was high on five-hour energy. and didn't even remember what survivor guy looked like. which leads me to believe that five-hour energy has mystical powers.
"no," i said. "we went on a date. when i was in college."
he stood there for a second. then recognition dawned. "holy shit!" he exclaimed. "you went to ucla!"
"and you never called me back. so look what you missed out on," i said, motioning up and down at my awesome self. and thanking heavenly father that i looked hot. for once. "wait till i tell my husband that survivor guy is here!"
"i don't think your husband will be that thrilled that some guy you went on a date with is here."
"whatever. he won't care. it's not like anything happened. i didn't kiss you. and you didn't call me."
"you didn't call me either." oops. that was another one of my lame-ass rules. no calling boys.
kyle approached at that moment. "hey. remember that guy i went on a date with in college who was on survivor?" i asked.
"no," kyle said.
"yes, you do! this is him." i motioned to survivor guy.
"i don't remember that. i'm getting another drink. want one?" he asked, walking off.
i talked to survivor guy for a little while longer. and then i heard rihanna. my cue to return to the dance floor.
total sliding doors moment. the rest of the evening i couldn't stop thinking about the what if's.
what if i had kissed him?
what if we had started dating? which would have been inevitable after we'd kissed.
what if he'd fallen madly in love with me? because that happened with every guy i dated.
what if we'd gotten married? because who wouldn't want to marry this?
what if i'd come to the wedding with him? and then seen kyle? looking so fly in his three-piece suit. and banged him in the bathroom? and totally ruined my marriage with survivor guy?
wow. good thing i never kissed him on that first date. life would have been entirely too complicated as of last weekend.
kyle must have sensed that i was having said what if delusions in my head. because when i finally found him, he reeked of cigarettes.
"you were smoking," i accused.
"i was nervous you were going to start wishing you'd married him instead of me."
"please. you're way hotter. and i'm shallow."
"i miss my best friend, rusty," he said.
rusty. that's the reason i didn't kiss survivor guy. because i was meant to adopt rusty.
everything happens for a reason. even if that reason's breath smells like butt.
