Category — tell me how to think.

This past weekend we went out like we do every weekend because we are so very popular and important. The reason I haven’t written about it yet is because I am trying to decide whether people mind becoming blog fodder or not. Also, I just realized I really like saying “blog fodder” out loud. Try it.

We go out with friends because it’s fun and it keeps us from laying on the couch for 63 hours at a time watching eleven seasons of The Shield with a bowl of tortilla chips resting on our bellies chests for easy snacking. We do not go out with friends because I need something to write about so teh internet will know how very popular and important we are (Did I mention that yet?). And still I have no idea if people truly like reading about what they did and how awesome they were (because everyone we know is awesome due to how popular and important we are) and knowing that a good nine three thousand people know about it now, too. And are judging them. Harshly.

I’m curious as to what your thoughts are on this, internet? Do you think people care? Does it make them nervous and excited like they might pee a little or punch me in the neck AT THE SAME TIME?

Until I decide what is the proper thing to do, based on your answers and most likely my perverse reaction to them which will be to do exactly the opposite of what you tell me to do, I will tell you this story about a party I went to my freshman year in high school.

I had transferred to Santa Margarita Catholic High School, which is a Catholic prep school for rich kids (we were not rich, but my Grandmother paid for it) in Southern California and I spent the first six months of the school year eating my pain away at Taco Bell so I weighed about 40 pounds more than I do right now. I had this leather bomber jacket like the one Kelly McGillis had in Top Gun and I wore it every day to school even though it was always about a thousand degrees in Trabuco Canyon but I thought it hid my fat parts. I was wrong.

So I went to this party at somebody’s big pink stucco house and after I watched the girls sing Take me Down To Paradise City at the top of their lungs we all went upstairs to watch a movie - probably Top Gun because the Gods mock me - and it was cold up there with the air conditioning on so some of the girls went down to get their jackets and one of the nice ones asked if I wanted mine and I said yes and told her, “it’s the leather bomber jacket” and the guy sitting next to me turned and looked at me with the most malice I’d ever seen in anyone’s eyes and spit out, “Shut your FAT FACE.”

I guess he thought I was being arrogant about my leather bomber jacket and who the fuck did I think I was, having a jacket and talking about it and being fat and having a fat face? And what makes me mad is that I didn’t say anything to him. I just TOOK IT. And I’m not writing this to have you all feel sorry for me and soothe my 14 year old hurts because that is bullshit. I am writing about it now because THAT is blog fodder.

Right?