Day 5. No cell phone. I’m about this far *making same hand gesture I use to describe Tom Cruise’s penis* from painting a keypad with my own blood onto a volleyball and calling it Webster. Fortunately, I don’t think I can fit a volleyball in my back pocket. If the real Webster 7.0 doesn’t show up today, I’ll just have to wear something with an elastic waistband.
I had lunch with one of the niftiest people on the planet yesterday. He was a much needed ray of sunshine in the middle of a decidedly weird day. He sends me cute little notes like:
Been loving your blog. So much that sometimes I forget to go on the myporn site
(that’s a lie).
Oh how he makes me giggle. I keep begging Thom to go gay so I can have this adorable man as my in-law. As usual, Thom remains completely selfish, holding out for someone with a uterus. *sigh*
As we dug into our respective bowls of cheese and guacamole (you’d think a pair of cancer survivors would make better dietary choices, eh?) we caught up on the last month or so of our lives.
He flashed his biceps. “I’m selling tickets to the gun show. You want a pair?”
“You look great! How are you feeling?”
“May 25th.” We both paused to cross our fingers. “Did you make the trip home to see your mom? How is she?”
He nodded. “She’s doing well…rebounding a little, so that’s good.” He took another bite then looked at me with furrowed eyebrows. “I lost my aunt Betty, though.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry.” I folded and unfolded my napkin, unsure of what to say.
Meanwhile, he kept right on eating. “I can’t find her anywhere,” he continued, smirking slightly.
“Um, what?” I asked, convinced I hadn’t heard him correctly.
“She’s 82 years old and I have no idea where she’s gone. Maybe I should get on home and try and call her again.”
Come on, Thom. Take one for the team! He couldn’t be any cuter. Besides, we know Mom already likes him!