This is blog of a woman who didn't know what she wanted and so chased after dreams and men in search of the answers...drunken hilarity ensued. Then one day she met a man who was everything she wanted, but he wasn't so sure. Then she did the unthinkable; after they broke up she gave him this blog address and she let him into her mind as well as her heart. Unbelievably, even after sorting through the sordid archives of failed relationships, one night stands and her lusty (and embarassing) pursuit to secure the heart of a certain young line cook, John somehow managed to fall in love with her too. Melina and John were married a little over six months after they started dating, running away to Las Vegas to seal the deal. You can imagine what the over/under bet was to see if they'd even make it a year!! Over a year later and they are still going strong...this blog has become their story. Need to tell me something? Email me at Melinalovesjohnny at gmail dot com
Check out my other blogs:

igotyourtexts.blogspot.com

melina310.wordpress.org
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.



Saturday, February 25, 2006
A Different Kind of Saturday
Alternately titled: Saturdays of the Idle Poor


Every Saturday for countless Saturdays now, I would wake up around noon. I don't go to bed until 6am on the weekends because my girl T is a sleep vampire, she refuses to let me sleep. It is my duty to drink until 6, and then (if and only if I put the lotion in the basket) I'm allowed to slumber for a few brief hours. I'd wake up, I'd rape my boyfriend (it is rape when he's still partially asleep right? Because that's what I was going for). Then I would get up and begin alternating between Molson and aspirin (tylenol + beer= bad kidneys and liver, aspirin +beer= divine, er no, perhaps not...but anyways). John would stumble down the stairs unable to sleep due to T (and sometimes Chelle if she stays over) and my own excessive and supersonic cackling...true enough, he couldn't actually hear the cackle until it passed overhead, but it was heard nonetheless.

We'd play a little Catchphrase...decide upon pizza, Chinese or the truly intrepid now ex-boyfriend, would dig in my fridge. Apparently, my fridge smells like the House of 1,000 Corpses and I think it's grossing more in DVD sales. We'd chow down, shoo the dog away as she attempted to swipe the Lo Mein and we would watch mindless television, all the while quoting Old School even though it wouldn't be on. (An aside...John and I once watched Old School three times back to back. It's a horrible thing when you have two highly obsessive/addictive personalities in one room). Oh and by the way, "I'm here for the gang bang". Ok, got my Old School quote fix in.

At around 4pm I would take a phone call from my mother that would go as such:
Mom: Are you drunk? Is John there drinking with you?
Me: (Cackle, cackle, slurry slurry cackle) Noooo, I'm not drunk! And yes! John's here...John get your hand out of my pants when I'm talking to my mom on the phone!
Mom: (silence)
Mom: (sigh)
Mom: Well then can you guys go let my dog out today?
Me: Um well...I'm kind of drunk.
Mom: Ha! I knew it! I'll get my boyfriend to do it...

It's good to be the one she can count on, because well, being an only child, it's a duty I feel I shoulder alone.

At around 6, I would say to T and John (nearly every Saturday), "I believe I'm going to take a dip in the pool." Being that I do not own a pool, it was understood that I was going to shower...which makes little to no sense...maybe if I was going to take a bath, the analogy could've worked, but eh...I was drunk. Once clean, I would take advantage of my boyfriend again and then throw him in the shower. Yes, I am incredibly strong and I can lift large 6'1" boys and gently toss them, thanks for asking.

7 pm, I would attempt to put on eyeliner, concentrating hard to not look like a linebacker with greasepaint under my eyes. On occasion, my concentration paid off, most times it did not.

We'd roll out wherever, mostly thitwbar and sing some "Don't Stop Believin' ", maybe a little "Ace of Spades" (Motorhead people, not Ace of Base) and I would typically do a lovely rendition of the Dead Kennedy's "California Uber Alles" because for some reason, that's my song when I'm drunk. Well that and "Rum to Whiskey" and "Straight to Hell" (look at me song dropping, uh huh, I'm awesome. I'm ecclectic. I get around. Um, well...maybe I shouldn't share that much.

Then we'd head home, I'd get to go to sleep at 6am and start all over again the next day. This Saturday isn't as fun as all that. T's at work (sacreligious whore that she is), and John for some reason, feels that if he's broken up with me, he can't hang out on Saturdays... But I took matters into my own hands. I cannot have a mundane Saturday again. I sat at my little computer, all hunched over and such, and typed Johnny a little message, "Ok. It's time to start working on the being friends angle, because this isn't a very fun Saturday! I bet you're having a boring Saturday too...We're too awesome for this...we must hang out soon."

So we'll see. I think I can do the friends thing with him (he he...this is what we call self delusion, but uh, in the good way)...and uh well, in the few days that we've been broken up I've used all the batteries in the house (TMI? I think not!) so I think he'd let me take advantage of him for old time's sake. Where'd that lovesick girl go? The one who was all depressed and such? I'm sure she's still here, but I'm bouncing back.

PS. A boy called me last night...he met me the night before John broke up with me, I was eating pez and drinking my weight in Jameson crying, aware of the impending split. This boy is hard up, because he called me after that. I mean yeah, I'm a cute kid...especially that night. My hair was in uneven pigtails and mascara was running down my face ala Alice Cooper, talking about my wonderful, wonderful boyfriend who was going to leave me because he was having some kind of crazy mental break. So uh yeah, the phone call, I kind of blew the boy off...too soon for any of that. Plus I'd much rather have John...and uh, I don't see that to be a promising beginning to anything. Oh and I'm wondering how he get my number...

PSS. Most of the drinking in this post was exaggerated, well at least until 4pm...then it's on!
posted by Melina at 10:01 AM