I�ve discovered that I�m surrounded by all these really cool people. You know, people like Miranda, who are out there living the life I�ve always wanted to have for myself. And it�s not like my life is all boring or crappy or anything -- I am able to recognize everything that is good about my life, and I value those things. I kind of chose to have my life the way it is, so I can�t complain too much, but sometimes...
Like, take my friend Cece for example! Every time I talk to her, I discover something cool and awesome about her. Did you guys know that Cece was almost on Joe Millionaire? They were grooming her to be one of the twenty unsuspecting bachelorettes, but she got skeeved by the producers and backed out early. Isn�t that the kick? (take note of how cool I am, with usage of the slang term �the kick�!) I mean, I now know two people with an immediate connection to a reality show (four, if you count my friend Natalie and her roommate, who went to high school with The Real World: Chicago�s Kyle).
Other things that make Cece the coolest: she owns a restored �68 Corvette, candy apple red. She�s a kickboxer. She�s really tall. She�s got long hair. She�s been in a triathlon. She broke her finger and reset the bone herself. She has this leather biker jacket that she always wears. She�s worldly and has an informed opinion on almost everything. Like, for example? Just last night she said I was �cute�!
One night, I was talking with her and my friend Chad, who�s built like a brick shithouse (I mean, I would sell someone else�s children on the black market to have his body -- in more ways than one, but pretend I didn�t just say that. I�m hormonal right now), and we were discussing the fact that Chad used to live in Florida.
Hot Chad: Yeah, I used to live in this tiny town near the southern tip.Cece: Oh, man, the last time I was down there I spent the night in jail!
Me: What?? Why?
Cece: Oh, I hit some guy in a bar fight.
Damn it! Why does everyone get to have bar fights except for me???Me: Bar what?Cece: Yeah, we were in some local joint, and some guy tried to grab me, so I clocked him. And then everyone got into it, and my friend pulled a knife, and then we got tossed in jail.
Hot Chad: I can�t believe you got in a bar fight!
Cece: Oh, that was nothing. The bar fight I was in when I lived in Japan was something else, though!
Me: Excuse me? Bar fight in Japan?
Cece: Yeah, it was really scary! Like, the Yakuza was there and everything.
Hot Chad: Yaka-what?
Me: It's the Japanese Mafia (take off your shirt)! You were in a bar fight with the Yakuza?
Cece: Well, to be fair, I was hiding under the table because they were throwing knives and shit, but it was really cool.
Dude! Do you see what I�m saying here, you guys? She lived in Japan! She was in a bar fight! With flying knives! And the Yakuza! Okay, so I�m taking a few creative liberties with the implications that she was fighting the Yakuza, but she was involved in a bar fight at which the Yakuza were present and throwing knives. That shit never happens to me! I did break my foot by kicking a kid once, though, does that count?Of course, now that I�m starting to cut loose a little more, maybe crazy shit will start happening to me, too. Like tonight, Natalie and I are going to the bar so we can start some shit. Maybe I�ll hit someone or throw knives or something. That�d be totally sweet.
Hmph. Zelda just came back from Starbuck�s, and instead of getting me my vanilla cappuccino, she got me a vanilla latt�. Is this some kind of conspiracy, or what?
How the fuck do they know that? Ohmygaw...are they watching me???
