Well, sleepovers have changed since then, but I still love them nonetheless. But let me be specific about the kind of sleepover I'm talking about. Not the kind where you wake up next to someone and you're like, "ugh, why?" I'm talking a bit more consistent. Like someone you're seeing regularly or dating. The sunlight coming in the curtains, you open your eyes and see that certain someone who's making you feel all warm and giggly. Take you to your happy place in all ways possible. Cooking breakfast, burning the foot while you make out on the counter. It's just, well, it's just really nice.
But before you get all warm and fuzzyish, let's discuss why you or I are going home too. Like Monica said, "I just wanna be all alone. Don't think I treated you wrong. Don't take it personal, baby."
Suck it in. There's always this moment, I don't care how secure the chick is, when her dude tries to cuddle her and as he wraps his arms around her middle area, she quickly sucks it in, just a little bit. We know you've seen us in all our glory, but you're also very distracted by the activities at hand. Maybe if I'm not riding you like a wanton goddess, you'll actually see that I skipped out on the gym a few times since I met you or that I ate 4 cupcakes last Wednesday, in bed, with cool whip, from the can.
Where the wild things sleep. I'm a wild sleeper. I always have been. I sleep wrapped around my pills to start out (odd since I hate cuddling actual breathing individuals), sometime during the night I flip myself upside down, inside out, run a marathon in my sleep, and change the sheets all before the sun comes up. And if I can't sleep, I toss and turn like a violent tornado, minus Dorothy and the lolipop guild. It isn't pretty and when I have to sleep over elsewhere or have someone in my bed, I get all weird and don't sleep well because I'm never quite in a deep enough sleep to actually rest. I'm afraid if I conk out, you'll wind up on the floor or in North Africa somewhere.
Must See Tv. Look, I love sports, I watch Sportscenter and PTI, BUT I also watch Grey's Anatomy and whatever crazy installment of housewives is current on Bravo. I love cheesy Lifetime movies starring Tori Spelling too, oh and old reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That to say, I love watching what I wanna watch. My DVR is just that: MINE. Nothing makes me happier than snuggling up on the couch-alone-and seeing that my DVR is 91% filled and it's up to me and me alone to lower that precentage. You probably don't wanna watch my recording of Steel Magnolias or that Quantum Leap marathon I've been dying to get into.
Fart, etc. Sorry to be the bearer of such incredible news, but women pass gas and poop, too! Even the pretty ones. ESPECIALLY, the pretty ones. But we also understand you like to live in this weird world where women don't do such hideous things. Instead our kidneys just hold onto all our waste until the same magical stork that brought us into the world, comes back and sticks it's beak in our tummies and takes the waste with them when they leave. Right. Just in case you're actually falling for that, let me warn you, women scratch, and belch, and fart, and much more when they're alone. Which is why we need to be alone sometimes.
Space Bar. I likes ya, and I wants ya, but if I don't get some space from you sometimes, I'm not gonna. I always seem to date men who go from hard to get to suddenly moving in with me. Or at the very least, taking major attention and wanting all kinds of snuggle fests at least a few times a week. I appreciate the love, seriously, but I would get sick of myself if I could-actually, I do, sometimes. An Ambien fixes that. Us having some alone time, alone, keeps us from getting sick of each other.
Any others I'm forgetting? Happy Friday too!
That bitch stole my line,