This entry brought to you by the letter K
So I have this rather lame journal on OkCupid (they've now removed the exclamation point) which I update because, well, it's there. It just feels *wrong* for it to sit empty.
The truly odd thing is that there are people who seem to have read it.
When I was in high school, rather than having a normal dating life like, oh, everyone else on the planet, I was stuck in a town where I believed myself to be Gravely Misunderstood because I actually thought that killing and eating deer, ducks, pheasants, and fish, was kind of yucky.
So the dating prospects -- not so good. There was one guy who was convinced that I, as one of the only Catholic girls in a sea of Lutheranism, had to somehow grow up and marry him and have lots of little Catholics. And there was this other guy who was very proud of the fact that he was born with two thumbs and had one removed. It was kind of like that.
In the meantime, I had this weird obssessive nonrelationship with someone named Dylan (this was back before everyone was named Dylan) that dragged on for like five years. I'd hate him and ignore him for a year, he'd hate me and ignore me for a year, lather, rinse, repeat.
Anyway, I made a reference to Dylan K. in my journal. I was contacted by someone looking for Dylan and his sister Keema. His name? Karma. Keema Karma, Karma Keema.
Giggle snort.
(I'd like to point out the number of Ks contained in this post. The letter K is clearly a magical letter for yours truly, just like the fake stalky psychic said.)
The truly odd thing is that there are people who seem to have read it.
When I was in high school, rather than having a normal dating life like, oh, everyone else on the planet, I was stuck in a town where I believed myself to be Gravely Misunderstood because I actually thought that killing and eating deer, ducks, pheasants, and fish, was kind of yucky.
So the dating prospects -- not so good. There was one guy who was convinced that I, as one of the only Catholic girls in a sea of Lutheranism, had to somehow grow up and marry him and have lots of little Catholics. And there was this other guy who was very proud of the fact that he was born with two thumbs and had one removed. It was kind of like that.
In the meantime, I had this weird obssessive nonrelationship with someone named Dylan (this was back before everyone was named Dylan) that dragged on for like five years. I'd hate him and ignore him for a year, he'd hate me and ignore me for a year, lather, rinse, repeat.
Anyway, I made a reference to Dylan K. in my journal. I was contacted by someone looking for Dylan and his sister Keema. His name? Karma. Keema Karma, Karma Keema.
Giggle snort.
(I'd like to point out the number of Ks contained in this post. The letter K is clearly a magical letter for yours truly, just like the fake stalky psychic said.)