Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Dirty, Dirty Naughty Girl Liar - Part 2

In Catholic school, we learned about the sin of omission. Sins of omission go something like this: The scene, me age 10, my family's kitchen, my Mom holding a cake plate - the contents which look like they have been demolished BY RABID HYPO-GYLCEMIC SQUIRRELS.

Mom: "Did you eat the last of this cake?"
Me: "No."
Me: (Inner Dialogue) "I just licked all the frosting, gnawed the sides off and then put it back on the cake plate."

That my friends, is "sin of omission" defined, and apparently, you go to HELL FOR IT. Or maybe not. What I remember vaguely of Catholic school is, you go to hell for everything and one time I was so afraid to ask to go to the bathroom, I peed in my pants.

Back to why I'm a Dirty, Dirty Naughty Liar. In my post about my EX, "$1 Dollar Drink Specials + Empty Stomach...," I mentioned how I was trying to call my ex because, ripped on four glasses of one dollar chardonnay, it seemed like the sensible thing to do. I reported that I didn't end up calling him and was quite proud of myself for that. THE OMISSION: I EMAILED HIM LADIES!!!!! YEAH, I DID.

Here's the deal. I came home and promptly typed this little diddy:

"Can you call me tonight?" SEND!

And then, BECAUSE I WANTED HIM IN NO WAY TO GET OUT OF IT, I typed again, "Surely, you haven't forgotten my number?" AND THEN I TYPED MY NUMBER. "Surely, you haven't forgotten?????" All of a sudden I'm a silver screen starlet from the 1950's.

As I fought passing out into a CHARDONNAY STATE OF SLUMBER, I looked into the heavy guilt-giving eyelids of my pooch Coop. Coop can lay the guilt on LIKE SISTER MARIE from fourth grade!!! He's like having Jesus and Mary Mother of God, right in the same room.

UGH! I know, I know. I worked so hard to get over this relationship. "Disasterous relationship," Coop corrected me with a unwavering stare. DAMMIT. I got back on the computer. I typed, "Nevermind. I was just having a moment." SEND. "Satisfied?" I said to Coop. "Oui, mon cherie", I imagined he said which is weird because he's a Chihuahua so technically he's Mexican and not French.

The next morning, this email came FROM HIM: (Not Coop, my Ex) - "I didn't check my email until this morning. I can call you today if you'd like." No. I was good. So I typed, "No, I'm good. Thank you." And that was it.