Just for LBG
November 15, 2009
It’s a deep-rooted anger. Stemming from a childhood of make-believe, an adolescence of day-dreams, and an adulthood of reality.
I hate lines in grocery stores.
I hate my ex-boyfriends and almost-husbands.
I hate spaghetti.
And I’ve always had a problem with hating things. Because it happens so effortlessly.
And when it comes to things I like … or even [gasp] LOVE … I am completely in denial.
I love rainy days.
I love chili-dogs.
I love Sharpie markers (among other office supplies, a silly fetish of mine).
However, I HATE admitting that.
So, I was thinking how great and uncharacteristic of me it would be to actually tell everyone that I can stand, how much I do care. But then I looked in the mirror and noticed a small wrinkle on the side of my eye, and the truth of the matter dawned on me …
God, I hate getting older.
November 16, 2009 at 7:59 am
Those lines on the sides of your eyes come from smiling. Don’t ever hate those.
November 26, 2009 at 2:02 pm
My dear Marlo,
You have quite a way with words.
gobble gobble.
love,
matty
November 26, 2009 at 2:14 pm
Matty!
You are a sight for sore eyes.
xoxo,
Marlo