This one requires a disclaimer. Gail and I are both extremely pro-breastfeeding. That’s their friggin’ purpose. I don’t even care if I catch a glimpse of your nipple in public, as long as it’s because you’re feeding your baby and not using him as a prop to make a point, which seems to be a prevalent attitude these days. Gail knows this, so I didn’t have to qualify my whopping exaggeration of “most women” to her.
Gail has discovered that she still has the phone numbers for all of the douche bags she’s dated…
I love her to death, but that girl will argue about the silliest things.
During our Netflix binge…
Me: “I still say that, in that town, the sex trafficking cop wasn’t all bad.”
Gail: “I think you’re speaking in word salad.”
I actually thought she didn’t realize what I meant.
Me: “The whole town is corrupt. He’s just your average Joe at this point… only he’s hot and he has power.”
Gail: “I really don’t think you’re saying the words you mean to say.”
Me: “So it’s a wee bit of sex trafficking. There were worse options. Everyone has flaws. I think I could overlook it.”
Gail: “No really… you’re not saying the words you mean to say.”
You try and think out of the box for one villain…
Me: “I know you’re not caught up on The Walking Dead yet, but when you get there, just consider this. The Governor? He got shit done.“
During the winter, Gail and I have limited time to spend together. It’s not that we don’t consider each other a priority, by any means. She’s just got the worst job in the whole world and she’s been brainwashed to think she loves it.
No, really. I want you think about this movie, before reading the following. It’ll make us seem far more normal in comparison.
Gail’s ecstatic about her job as a mailman. She loves it nearly as much as I love being a librarian, but it means she works around the clock during the Christmas season. So, unless I get up at 4:30 in the morning to meet her at IHOP, our face time is limited. Instead, we keep in touch through our textersation. I text her when I’m able and she responds when she’s able. There is no context or “where did that come from?” I can send her anything from:
I’m going to die alone!
to…
I hate the question “What are you reading?”
“Well, you see, it’s about the Four Horsemen, but they’re SEXY.”
Similarly, she regularly sends me appallingly offensive quotes from Christian radio and quizzes me on Catholicism. We’ve got a sweet deal going. So, it was hardly out of the ordinary when I started the following discussion last night while marathoning Supernatural, like the closeted fangirl I am.
Dysfunctional relationship cards:
“Some days, you’re as good as your brother.”
Your turn.
—– “You know, sometimes you’re pretty.” Your turn.
My Gramma actually said this to my mother once, when I was 15, because she’d dressed up. Gail was referencing that.
“I wouldn’t marry you a second time, but sometimes I don’t regret the first.”
—– “You’re just like your father.”
“If I enjoyed sex, you’d be in my top five.”
—– “I think I’m gay, but you’re close enough.”
“Thank you for helping me recapture the asexual nature of my childhood.”
—– “I thought you might professionally overcompensate for your sexual issues by choosing defense law.”
“That wasn’t my gynecologist.”
—– “Happy Valentine’s Day, Meagan.”
Gail’s musician once called her Meagan during foreplay. She went ahead and had sex with him.
“Don’t be mad at your sister. It wasn’t consensual.”
—– “Happy Birthday! I framed your ‘Missing’ poster!”
“Happy VD! It doesn’t stand for Valentine’s Day.”
—– “That wasn’t really the last of my student loans… or the other loans. Surprise!”
Bahahaha. You would compare financial problems to sister rape.
—– I thought we were just doing any unhealthy relationship issues? Lying about thousands of dollars is a real relationship issue!
“I didn’t flush the cocaine, but we have more in common now!”
—– “Your dog didn’t really run away.”
“Your daughter didn’t really run away.”
—– “I don’t actually mind your porn addiction. I’m just worried that you’ll find out I’m not really using my accounting degree at the office.”
“I don’t actually mind your porn addiction. I’m just worried that you’ll find out the kids aren’t really at daycare.”
—– “I hoard a hundred dollars every time we have sex.”
“The casket was empty.”
—– “Thanks for ignoring the basement screams.”
“I’m not really a mortician… or at least not a licensed one.”
—– “Open your legs like it’s optional.”
“She’s not my mistress. She’s my daughter. Well… I suppose she’s both.”
Belle of the Library 