I went on two dates with the same boy (we've been involved for some time, but this isn't how we roll generally) and didn't freak out about it in the slightest-- even when he kissed me in public for the first one, and pretended he didn't know me and we weren't together for the second one. I had a 6 member punk band on tour stay at my house (sorry boys-- hummus and pita and leaving behind toothpaste and imports: not very rock star), dyed a corset, dyed it again because the black wouldn't take, discussed horses having sex vs. sexual horseplay in a Starbucks, written and turned in two midterm papers that it seems are not due until next week, sat for 4 hours in front of a bonfire, smoked from a long cigarette holder, and ate an entire pumpkin pie to myself.
And my weekend felt wasted, faked and somehow misleading to anyone who saw me taking any part in it. I wasn't called 'mommy' once, and I can't help but think that I wasn't fooling anyone, especially myself... everything was effortless, everything came together perfectly, and everything was completely wrong.
I'll never quite adjust to this being old enough not to need to call me before bed thing.
About Nanda Sue
- Amanda Kershner
- South Bend, Indiana
- A 38 year old single mother turned wife and stepmother, and over-thinker, my anxiety disorder is more than just acute...it's the cutest. I am a tish bitter, neurotic and well meaning in sometimes equal parts, and am prone to cattiness, wordplay, run-on sentences and misspelling.
