Sometimes It Just Takes A Little Push In the Right Direction

While reading one of my favorite blogs on here, Daydream Believer, I got to thinking about one of the season's most popular controversies. I'm not talking about elections, who had the best Halloween costume, or if Santa really knows if you've been bad or good.

I'm talking about Uggs.

Before last year I had stood my ground, standing on the street with a sign, and shouting to everyone who would listen that these are the most ridiculous boots known to man, and would eventually cause the demise of society as we know it.

Around January I broke up with my boyfriend (for the second to last time, I'm sorry to say). I'm not sad, and I wasn't as sad as I could have been then. In fact, the only reason we were briefly together after that was because I needed him to get through a tough situation. Hey, sometimes a girl needs emotional support and chooses it in the wrong place. It had been a terrible off-on again relationship and, according to the ending expiration date, the relationship should have been growing mold and virus-curing bacteria. Metaphorically, I guess it was.

I did what all girls do after break-ups. I went out and bought things that would make me look phenomenal so he would know that I was always too good to be with him anyway.

One of the things I bought were a pair of Uggs. I wanted black, but they were out. The tan ones treated me so well that they were about to fall apart by the time I finally conceded and stopped wearing them.

Damn things were comfortable. And laces? Forget about it! Best decision ever. Plus I looked really good.

To see how I really feel about not being in this relationship, click here.

Cinderella Was Right; Dreams Really Do Come True!

Some people talk about out of body experiences. You know, those small moments in life that make you wake up and see the world for the truly great place it is. I had one of these moments a few nights ago at a local bar in town. I wasn’t meditating, I wasn’t taking acid to broaden my mind, I was just having a few drinks with a friend to console him due to the fact that he had been broken up with over a text message that day. It was a normal night. I was just going about my business bonding with the whiskey in my glass and occasionally offering up a pat on the back to my grieved friend when it happened.

 I walked outside to the courtyard of the bar and began talking to my friend. I nonchalantly took a seat in the chair next to her and glanced around to see if there was any one more interesting to talk to. There, four feet away from me, sat a man around the age of twenty-five (the term ‘man’ is used VERY loosely here). I kind of recognized the t-shirt he was wearing and looked about four times as I was almost certain I recognized the person wearing the shirt. As he got up and awkwardly walked away after the quadruple-take , I was certain I knew who it was, and he was quite a bit heavier than the last time I saw him. Yes ladies, the dream had come true and it was truly one of the greatest moments of my life; my ex-boyfriend had gotten fat. He is now a fat fat mcfatty fatterson. He had been getting a little chubby during the last stretch of dating him, but in the last month the pot smoking and the taco bell eating contests must have really caught up with him.

We sat in the bar for the rest of the evening, both not willing to make eye contact with or acknowledge the other person, both not willing to be the one who gives in and leaves the uncomfortable situation, and I kept glancing over not believing my good fortune. I know some of you may be thinking that this sounds a little mean, but this is the moment that every girl who has had her heart broken dreams about; the moment where she can glance over at the man she once loved and say, ‘Ha!’.

So here’s to you, taco bell. You truly do make people’s dreams come true. I cheers my next whiskey drink to you.