new jersey is for lovers

it's annoying to me that after all of these years i am still the stick-in-the-mud cautious one. i was always the kid who paced uncomfortably while fonta spray painted the inside of that board that came loose on the back of the barn (shame!), whose heart beat out of control when rafter and i snuck onto the grounds of mt. gilead bible camp and drew pentagrams in the sand. i was the goody-two-shoes whining "guys! i don't think this is such a good idea!"
i seem to have been born with a highly overactive sensor for wrong-doing. i never wanted to get drunk, smoke pot, cut class, shoplift, or even walk on the wrong grass. this attitude still resides in me like an unwelcome parasite. why am i the one concerned that emre and emir will break haley's mother's collector plates while they wrestle and do their best bruce lee?
so i decide to throw caution to the wind and join in the horseplay at the botanic garden. i grab emre and pretend to push him into the koi pond he's squatting over, trancing out on the fish. but apparently i actually am supposed to listen to this nagging voice in my head, because instead of laughter ensuing, i get emre's super forceful reflex reaction--a fast elbow in the mouth as he jumps up.
cartoon stars. a little blood. the overwhelming desire to sob. and i guess i can stop saving up for those lip enhancing injections because angie jolie's pout has nothing on me.
born to nag. born to follow the rules. sexy.

i went to new jersey and got punched in the mouth and all i got is the chance to make endless domestic abuse jokes.


emre looking guilty...me--before the swelling took on elephant man proportions--trying to be forgiving, but still looking like i might strangle him. photo courtesy of haley