Dude Blue


I’ve been weirdly into the names of things, particularly colors and even more so involving nail polish colors. This one is called “Dude Blue”… I picked it up at the dollar store and used it with a red and white from sinful colors to show my patriotism for this particular week and though it didn’t come out the way I had envisioned or even the way I perceived it to be on the actual stamp, I totally dig the strange pattern and terrible gradient of the two colors (excuse the sloppiness).


I found a writing prompt a few months ago on one of the various sites that exist and though I saved it and thought to write, I hesitated because of what would be said. I thought instantly of the things I would have to describe, of the things people, even strangers, would then know. It’s scary to talk about yourself and your life. It’s even more frightening and pretentious to assume someone would care enough to read it. It would be for me, an occupation of time and a way to vent, not about the issues at hand but more of a distraction than anything. Why shouldn’t I? Typing them here doesn’t make them any less true and though my general direction is to forget, it could be nice to remember, perhaps an “opportunity to be hilarious.” (TY Michael Ian Black) And so, I guess, it begins…

Talk about your first kiss.

My first kiss, my first real kiss, was, unfortunately, awful. I was older than most of my friends had been for their first kiss. I was 15, getting picked up in a jeep with my then boyfriend, & his two friends, heading over to the friendly, local, homeless man, who would buy underage kids beer for their left over change. While the two sat up front orchestrating the deal, I sat in the back with the bf. Once we got our beer and started driving out of downtown, that was the big moment. He leaned down and started to kiss me and up until that moment, I was pretty convinced I knew what I was doing. I was ready for sweet, soft and slow kissing. Yet the moment came and there I was, locked in a sloppy, spitty, non-stop tongue movement, kiss. Before I could process my disappointment, this Romeo pulls away, looks down at me, cupping my face in both of his hands, then says, “Do you even know how to kiss?” Too embarrassed and thrown back to reply with, “DO YOU, BISH!?” I picked up my ego and replied, “Um yes.” two words and that was that.