Of the Cloth

You know, I get the cup holders.
In strollers.
When they came out with cup holders, I got it.
I don't really get why mothers are putting their scalding hot macchiotos into the cup holders.
But I get the cup holders.
But you lost me with the shock absorbers.
What are you doing with your baby to need shock absorbers for their stroller?
Just how much of a 'mom on the go' are you?

Where have I been?
I know where you've been.
You were in the office on Wednesday, complaining that the 'fucking Regatta was canceled.'
Ditto for Thursday.
Friday you were drunk. Probably nowhere near the Regatta.
On Wednesday I was in Starbucks with Turpin and John (her missus) and I was tempted to yell:
"Nice day for a boat race!"
In high school I wouldn't have hesitated.
Of course, in high school you generally think you're awesome when instead you're just loud.

I'm more interesting than you, so let's recap the week:
I'm a monk now.
I shaved my head. Bought an orange robe.
It's terrycloth.
Sure, the other monks make fun because it's not 'legit.'
But it'll do until I happen upon a loom.

In other spiritual occurances, I moved.
I apologize to my stalking fans (my favourite kind).
You've new routes to memorize and loiter around now.
And I'm going to be on foot much more frequently, so I'll be tougher to track for a little while.
Won't be on the couch nearly as much.
But if you're dedicated, you'll persevere.
I have faith in you.
It's important to say that to your obsessive acquaintances now and then.

Lastly, I believe that my days of looking attractive while nude-
and I mean as attractive as I was ever destined to be-
are quickly drawing to a close.
And I didn't exactly have sculptors following me around in the first place.