Friday, June 24

Different ways to approach the fact

that your boy is about to leave on a very long vacation for the rest of the summer.

one: Over-the-top melodramatic. As in, break out the dark, dumpy clothing, turn on the David Grey-John Mayer-Dashboard Confessional music and wallow in your room in a puddle of loneliness. Once your pathetic pity-party is discovered, it also becomes the perfect way to assure that you will become single pending his arrival home.

two: Choreograph the perfect going away scene. It should involve the invasion of a family resort, lots of big hair and flouffy dresses, and be set to “I’ve had the time of my life”. After all, who knows how to end a summer love cut short better than Dirty Dancing? (Patrick Swayze is optional. Tight pants are not.)

three: Fuck credit, work, and parents, and max out your VISA because it has a ridiculously high limit. Buy plane ticket to Asia and hire a rickshaw to drive you around until you find your boy. Money is meant to be spent, isn’t it?

four: Sneak up on him with some ether just as he is getting on the plane. While he is kept in a coma for a few days, read The Beach out loud, play Brokedown Palace and spritz the air with ginger and over-crowded body smells. When he wakes up convince him it’s the end of August and he just got back from his trip. (Ignoring the fact that there’s still many weeks to go until school starts again. Spend them curled up together naked somewhere and no one will question the passing of time.)


Um? I’m clearly still looking for suggestions...