I have a confession to make. It’s been bothering me for quite a while, & I now feel the need to get it off my chest. You see, I got a phone call this past week from someone where they mentioned the object of my confession. I didn’t answer my cellie, I was working out, & I don’t take my phone w/ me when I go to work out.

Which is actually another post in itself; I can’t stand ppl on the treadmill, running, out of breath, who answer their stupid phones, trying to get the words out, gasping more than talking. Who can understand them anyway? And most times they answer, say stupid things like “…no, I’m running on the threadmill! Man, I can’t talk right now! I’ll have to call you back!” And they’re YELLING all this. Well, yelling-gasping, huffing-puffing. Haha, like a dragon, haha. Sorry, my mind drifted. So, read what I just wrote, but w/ pauses in b/t as the dork tried to catch his breath in b/t words. This is seriously what the guy on the machine next to me was sputtering into his phone. Only he had to repeat each sentence 2 or 3 times, b/c the person on the other end couldn’t understand him. WHY!?! Why would someone have to answer the phone (or take their phone w/ them in the 1st place?). Ok, before you lay the smackdown on me for that last question, I’d like to acknowledge that there are exceptions. Ppl who are parents, yes- please continue to be good parents & answer your phones cause it could be your kids. Ppl who are in life & death occupations, like if you’re a doc on call. Ppl who have fam or friends in the hospital, & have taken an hour outta their day to try to take their mind off of it. And of course, the hookers. The “oldest profession”, we know that you women are always “on call”, & you do have to answer if yo pimp is trying to reach you. Cause we all know, it’s hard out here for a pimp.

What was I talking about? Oh god, yeah, my confession. Do I really have to do this? I don’t think I’m ready. It involves ‘Urban Cowgirl’. She’s a real life friend of mine. She’s the one who called & left the voicemail. I don’t want to make the confession, b/c I feel that I’ve betrayed her in a way.

Maybe I could tell you a little bit about her. She’s one of my fave ppl in the world, let me tell you! I met her through my job, but I no longer work w/ her. We used to eat lunch together for an hour a day. And by eat lunch, I mean, we’d laugh our pa-tooties off talking about all kinds of inappropriate (& oft offensive or politically incorrect) things that would make Bill Maher blush. And he’s dating Corrine Stephens, so I’m sure there’s very little that could make him blush! If my sister is reading this, don’t google Corrine, she’s a whore-skank & that’s all you need to know about her, ‘kay? Thanks. Did I not spell ‘skank’ right? My spell-check is lighting up like ka-ray-zay. Well, I wasn’t an English major, so that’ll have to do.

Anyway, in the summer, we’d take our lunches that we’d packed, & go outside to this place that we called “the jungle”. The jungle had this long, lean grass that almost came upto your knees (well, our knees anyway); & these huge trees that loomed into the sky, reaching out to try to grasp the clouds overhead. We’d hike up our skirts, eat lunch, while tanning our legs (yes, folks, we’re women, & what we do best is multi-task). Every now & then, a car would come along & try to parallel park in an unbelievably small space. And we’d point & laugh. Aahhh, happy memories….

Oh, back to my girl. She has this t-shirt that says “Urban Cowgirl” on it, & let me tell you, it fits her perfectly. She’s street-savvy, cultured, & country. She was raised in the country, so she’s really smart about country-stuff (if you don’t know what country-stuff is, I can’t really help you, cause I don’t really know either). But she’s down w/ the city lifestyle too. Anyway, she’s just grand. Does that make her sound like a piano? Cause she’s not a piano. She’s also gorgeous. AND, she just got engaged! I’m so incredibly happy for her. I love love! It’s grand, too! Although, not in the piano-way again.