You jerks. Why didn’t you tell me about this?

The Imaginarium of Dr.Parnassus. New favorite movie. Check it out.

I’ve decided I never want to get married, as it seems to cause strife. 
A lot of strife.

So, I am making a list of things a man has to do before I marry him.
He has to… 

**1. Sing “Someone to Fall Back On” by Jason Robert Brown. Decently.
**2. Make me cry out of joy.
**3. Write me a book.
**4. Take me to a high school dance.
**5. Be eighty with me.
**6. Introduce me to a better restaurant than Zins.
**7. Be a great cook.
**8. Love to travel.
**9. Accept my nerdy, nerdy ways. 
**10. Enjoy the nerdy things I enjoy.
**11. Beat me in a debate.
**12. Create original art.
**13. Be musical.
**14. Be a lefty.
**15. Have a lucky item that he never goes without.
**16. Be constantly forgetful.
**17. Be able to explain math to me.
**18. Know his zombie plan.
**19. Have see every Monty Python’s Flying Circus episode.
**20. Have two different color eyes.
**21. Be a cat person.
**22. Have glasses.
**23. Tell me his wish at 11:11
**24. Make my day for 365 days. 
**25. Already know some musical theatre. We should be able to introduce one another to new stuff and love the classics together. 
**26. Have gone to college.
**27. Understand why the plural of foot is foots, and why we must never EVER pet.
**28. Have saved my life.
**29. Always wake up on time.
**30. Always run late for parties.
**31. Play with my hair. And let me play with his hair.
**32. Weigh more than me.
**33. Never try and enlighten me with “Jesus’ saving grace.”
**34. Have owned one of the same major possessions as I have. I.E., animal, house, car.
**35. Has never made me almost cry.
**36. Has made me cry.
**37. Let me win games.
**38. Never lose at video games.
**39. Have excellent spelling and grammar. Not perfection, but damn close.
**40. Not care that I’ve been known to swear like a salty sailor.
**41. Watch the sun set with me at noon.
**42. Watch the sun rise with me at midnight. 
**43. Have a band, and be very good at his instrument.
**44. Have an only mediocre band.
**45. Be asked to be a professor.
**46. Be friends with every last one of my friends.
**47. Have friends that I can be friends with.
**48. Never make me uncomfortable.
**49. Often make me nervous.
**50. Prove he loves me unconditionally.

I feel as though this list is impossible enough.  

Today I went to my lovely little community theatre with a friend, Olivia. We made the spontaneous decision to ditch our haunted house haunting responsibilities and go see the show being put on by our local opera company. As Olivia’s voice coach had a lead role, we assumed it would be excellent.

MIND BLOWN. 

I don’t care what the reviews say, Flight of the Lawnchair Man was glorious. The costuming was perfect, the set was perfect, the songs were perfect, the cast was perfect. 

Sheer beauty. 

It lifted me from the hazy funk I’d been experiencing, and, with all the glee and heartwarming chords of a Disney classic, it filled my soul with joy.

If it comes by you, see it.

Damn you, you know I am hopeless.

Why did you let me do this?

Why did you lie there and take it?

“Well, this is the end then, isn’t it?”

It was a question. You could have said no. You should have said no. You should have said, look at all the pictures of us, how happy we are. You should have said, look at all the evidence, how much I love you.

Did you know how much I would regret it, losing you?

Are you waiting now, for me to call, apologise, beg, plead?

Are you unaware?

Did you want this, push me to it, so you could be the victim, as you ever are?

Would you ever tell me if it was so?

So now we come to an impasse. One where you have been my life for so long, I can’t imagine life entirely without you. And where “entirely without you” is exactly what is necessary. So you tell me now. I’m sick of solving these damn problems. You tell me what I do now to stop myself from feeling sick when I see you. To stop myself from just wanting to wrap my arms around you, and tell you how stupid I feel. To stop me from just wanting to hit you until you break. You remind me why my decision really was right.

Go on then. I’m waiting.

I don’t like to write. This is due to my certainty, and a valid certainty at that, that while my writing style is formal, has a tendency to use annoyingly large words, and generally uses frighteningly accurate grammar, from a creative standpoint, it is…

awful.

But, don’t worry your undoubtedly lovely little heads. As most humans, I oft pretend to be oblivious to my own faults. So I will try anyway. 

Plan, as a note to self: 

Main posts should consist of art and reviews of other things. No one wants to see your floundering writing attempts. 

Thank you for your attention.