Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Step off, Deb.

I know.  Where have I been, right?
I just haven't had a whole lot of words, as of late.
We've been hopelessly deadlocked in the decision of what to do about the wedding this weekend.  My cousin's wedding, 5 hours away.  We have mostly been concerned with Carter.  What to do with him while we're gone for the night.  We've never spent more than a few hours without him, so it's really scary!  But we're going.  We have to go.  I finally decided that we can't let our son control our every move.  If he's being cared for by people who love him, we should be able to get away for the night and have some fun.  So, with that decision finally made, I can come back with a clear head and jabber with you fine people, the readers of my silly little blog.

I hate secrets.  It's probably because I spent years of my life being a deceitful little witch.  It's true, I was.
So imagine my pride when Mike came home yesterday and announced that he did not take his clothes off for Debbie Travis.  The Debbie Travis.  The British interior designing guru herself.
She is making some kind of Calendar for charity with naked men holding tools in front of their... tools.  Now, I don't know what Mike's reasons were for not doing it and it doesn't really matter.  Another part of the naked calendar deal involved a bachelor auction.  An auction in which women (or men, I suppose) pay money for a date with one of the calendar fellows.
Although Mike didn't go for it, that didn't stop a friend of his from going for it.  And he is in a relationship as well.  He plans on fessing up about the naked calendar modeling but has no intention of letting her know about the bachelor auction.  Now, being auctioned off is a kinda shitty thing to do to his girlfriend.  But not necessarily a deal breaker.  It's the secrets that come up sometime in the future, when the person with the secret has completely forgotten about their hurtful deceit, those are the secrets that ruin relationships I think.
Listen to me, I sound like a fortune teller.

The point of the matter is: Mike isn't appearing naked on a calendar any time soon (probably much to his dismay) and will not be auctioned off tonight to some stranger in the name of charity.  No no, friends.  He will be in the audience watching his friends get bought off by the ladies, beside me, who loves him and appreciates his honesty.
It should be a riot, this auction.

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