"You're Welcome" Part II

As many of you know, I posted THIS blog about my trip to NYC, ethnic life in Boulder, and the crazy trust fund kid's first interaction with a black person.

I had another lovely interaction with a less-than-charming, potbellied pig shaped man a couple days ago. Just to give you the full effect, I attempted to draw a picture of him:

Sir Douchington of Louisville the III

Yes, it was a 50-year-old man; not a 60-year-old pregnant woman.

I was walking to the mailbox to get our weekly, bill-filled loot and this lovely gentleman was sorting through his weekly ads.

Douchington: Hi. 
Me: Hi!
Douchington: Nyyyyyneeeeyyyeehehehhe *something that I can only identify as a horse noise*
Me: Excuse me?
Douchington: Your hair is really cool. 
Me: Thanks

*Pause* At this point, I thought he was just complementing me, but our riveting conversation didn't stop there.

Douchington: Like Lion King.
Me: ... 
Douchington: Like a lion, you know?
Me: ...
Douchington: Cus, your hair is scary. Like, reeeeeeeeally scary.
Me: uhhhh.... Thank you?
Douchington: Can I pet it?

*Pause* Can I  PET IT?????!!!???!! I am not a chia pet. I am not a puppy. I am not a fucking lion.

Me: No thanks, BYE.




Can I move to Denver yet? I'm ready.

"The Story"

As most of you know, the boyf (boy+wife) proposed on New Years Eve.

After 7.5 years (minus a semester long sabbatical) we were both interested in finalizing this thing. Even though we were headed down the same path, neither of us were in any hurry to justify our relationship in the eyes of the law. We liked each other. We are best friends.

I told him that whenever "it" happened, I wanted loved ones around and I wanted it to be a complete surprise. Needless to say, he nailed it.

We were up in Winter Park, Colorado with some of our closest law school buddies. It was a regular New Years Eve night so we were on our way to getting completely shitcanned.

A friend stole my camera and began taking pictures of our friends. I started yelling at him for stealing my incrimination device. How would I take pictures of people puking on themselves with no camera?

Ryan grabbed my hand and led me to the center of the room. He got down on one knee and opened his mouth... preparing to talk.

I thought to myself, "Oh. Em. Gee. It's happening." Instead of letting him speak, I chose the only logical step for a half-drunk theater kid: Run around the room and scream-cry until everyone's ears were bleeding. Obviously.



I took the ring out of his hands and continued to scream-cry-snot-choke all over myself. It was likely the least attractive thing I've ever done. Want to know how pretty I looked?

Excited Tipsy Snot Drool Girl

We celebrated with some of our closest friends, champagne, and lots o' noise makers.

I wouldn't have changed a thing.


P.S. Obligatory, and requested, ring pic aka Bling.