When I was in high school there were several stoners who asked me to marry them. “Marry me,” one asked with a doped up smile as we walked one of the many paths across campus. “Very funny,” I replied. Another one proposed to me in my yearbook. “Will you marry me?” he scribbled across the inside cover, the words laced with traces of LSD. It was all very romantic, my stoner proposals, but I never quite knew how to take them. Even though the invitations were in jest, one still confessed to me that I was the “kind of girl a guy like him would want to marry someday.” In other words, right now I’d kind of like to have fun and be irresponsible and make stupid choices, but if I ever decided to get serious about a real relationship you’re the kind of chick I’d be looking for. (P.S. chick = [chik] noun – 1. a girl who had enough fashion sense to wear blue mascara and striped leg warmers on the same day, only to feel inferior if wearing anything less than Guess jeans.) So yeah, the only people who had a thing for me in high school were the ones who hid their weed under their mattresses.
These memories have been recurring to me over the last few weeks because it seems I have moved on to the perverts. I am a big fan of leaving on the Anonymous option for comments on the blog because every once in a while my sister tries to log on, and I want her to have the freedom of speech without the commitment of a Google account. But for whatever reason I have become a magnet lately for inappropriate links to be posted as an anonymous commenter, and I refuse to be any kind of platform for skanky people to get more traffic. So, just like I turned down my stoner proposals I am shutting off my anonymous comments. Sorry Sooz- the pervs made me do it.