The Musings of My Mind

Month: June, 2014

Violent Dream

Feels like I’m losing my mind a little bit. It also feels like I have a major issue with just….shutting up sometimes. I’m working on a story right now, but I had to stop and let my mind breathe. I’m feeling a lot of things right now and I felt like I was allowing my emotions to cloud my judgement. My story was taking an unnecessary turn.

I work in five hours. But I have to be up in four. Yet..I’m up writing, thinking, drinking, regretting. Also listening to music. Wishing I could be out of my skin for a bit.

Last night, a good friend of mine told me I had an incredible quality, and when I asked which quality he was referring to, he said that I possess the quality to love whole heartedly. He said not too many people have that, and I really appreciated it. He’s right though. I love..a lot and I love hard. Sometimes it bubbles over because it’s so much and I can only let it out through my words. It comes out in an uncontrollably emotional, confused and angry rant..&each time, I regret it. It never fails. I am obsessed with expressing myself and I have this thing where I feel like people’s feelings should be heard and understood. I also believe that my life is a movie.

My head is spinning. But I’m listening to a great song. All these songs are great. Fuck, I love music.

I am trying to be not so…erratic, but then I wouldn’t be me. This is me. I can’t help it. I have a lot of love inside of me. Sometimes it spills. Decisions I’ve made, I have to live with..beds I’ve made, I have to lie in. Words I’ve said..well, I can’t take them back.

I think about that night at the beach a lot.

I don’t think I’m going to bed any time soon and that angers me because I have to be up so early. I can’t finish this story tonight either.

Is anyone else up right now?

Life is so weird. It’s not funny, it’s just really fucking weird.

I named this post after the song that was playing when I finished it. Just in case anyone was wondering.



“Excuse me, sir. Can you help me find my mom?”

I heard this tiny voice and my first instinct was to ignore it. Maybe he was talking to someone else. I tried to go back to eating my bagel and tried my best not to look over my newspaper, but the kid was persistent. He reached over and tapped my shoulder. There was no way I could ignore him now, he’d touched me and made his presence known. Out of all the people sitting here, he’d chosen me to come to his rescue, and I’m probably the only person who doesn’t instantly flash pictures of my family without even being asked.

I put my newspaper down and forced a smile, the smile that comes along with gleaming eyes that are mostly always used for children.
I said “Interesting place for a kid to be lost. Is it Bring Your Child to Work Day?”
He pulled out the seat across from me and sat down. Before he answered, he looked around the room taking in every face, every move being made. “What do you do here?”
I was confused. I don’t have much patience, which is why I don’t do well with kids, so I could already feel my temper flaring. I was given this task and I wanted to get it over with. I can’t lie, he’s a pretty cute kid, but I didn’t want to spend my lunch break playing 21 questions. “Uh, I’m an engineer.”
“What does an engineer do?”
“Well, engineers don’t help kids find their parents, but this one will. So, when did you see her last?”
He stared at me for a moment before saying, “She said she was here for a job interview and told me to wait in the waiting room. That was two hours ago.”
For a brief moment, I had the thought that this kid had just been abandoned, and then I kind of laughed. If he was getting abandoned, this would make a great story one day. Normally kids get left in front of hospitals or orphanages. Not that I’d know personally, I’ve just seen it in films. Then, I realized that she was interviewing for the chemical development department. She was going to be in there for another hour.
“Alright, dude. Your mom is still in her interview. How about I buy you something to eat and you go back to where she told you to wait and then uh…yeah, that’s it. Are you hungry?”
He scrunched up his eyebrows and shook his head. “The lady at the front told me I couldn’t stay there anymore.”
I folded my newspaper and sat back in my seat. I furrowed my eyebrows, closed my eyes and tried to think of which girl could’ve been up there. Going through the schedule in my head, it finally clicked. The “lady” he was referring to was good-in-bed Leila. Most of the girls on my roster are hot, but they just lay there like idiots. So, what I do is add in an average chick with low self esteem so she feels that she has to compensate for her physical inadequacy, and then comes the best sex or blow job
of my life. Maybe both if I’m lucky. Leila, though, that girl is a fucking sin. She’s the whole package, but she’s a bitch so I’m not surprised she kicked the kid out.

I could’ve came up with ten different solutions, but I could tell he would’ve fired back a response as to why he should tag along with me. I glanced at my watch, and let out a sigh of annoyance. I had no choice but to take him back to my office. I packed up my things and we proceeded to make our way to the elevators. On our way there, various women in the building, some I’ve slept with and some I haven’t, stared at me with come-fuck-me eyes and I knew it was only because of the kid. Women who are impressed or turned on by men with children have daddy issues. That’s the only logical explanation. I shook off the attention and barreled him inside the elevator. I even let him press the button. I know, I’m a good guy.

At that moment, I realized that he never told me his name, nor did he ask for mine. I like the direction he’s heading in though; loose and detached. Names never really matter.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Skylar.” He looked up at me surely anticipating the joke that would follow. His mother gave him a girl’s name. I’m almost certain he isn’t the popular kid on the block.

“That’s a girl’s name.”

He scoffed. “It’s unisex.”
I had to laugh at that. Right then, Marcie from the eighth floor hopped on the elevator, and at the sight of Skylar, her eyes lit up like a virgin in a strip club.

“Oh my stars, what a babe! Duuuuuncannn, is this your son? Why didn’t you ever tell us you had such a darling son?” She was practically yelling. I’m not sure who I hate more; Marcie or people like Marcie.
I rolled my eyes discreetly and told her he wasn’t my kid. She cocked her head to the side and said, “Hmm, that’s odd. He looks just like you.” Skylar and I instantly turned to face each other, we furrowed our brows and at the same time, and said, “No.”

Marcie awkwardly laughed and continued to ask Skylar stupid questions. I don’t know why people treat kids like babies, the kid had to be at least 10. He’s practically a grown man by now. Before I could kill either myself or Marcie, the elevator dinged and we were finally on my floor. I apologized to Marcie for having to cut our little chat short, grabbed Skylar and whizzed past all the annoying secretaries in hopes that I wouldn’t be asked anymore questions about this kid. When we got inside my office, he stood in the doorway and stared wide-eyed at all of my things.

“So, I’m guessing you like airplanes?”

“I want to be a pilot. This is so cool!”

For the first time since he ruined my day, I smiled at him. And it was real.

Hello, Goodbye


Goodbye to love.
Goodbye to life.
Goodbye to breathing.
Hello to mourning.
You are gone&part of me is too.
My world is now blue.
&I feel so askew.
Goodbye to you.
Goodbye to us.
Goodbye to love.
Hello to heartbreak.
This pain I can’t take.
My future seems to be at stake.
For my life I do want to end
Because all this loneliness is turning into a horrid trend.
Goodbye to happiness.
Goodbye to love songs.
Goodbye to memories.
Hello to life.

– I was rifling through my old poetry and I think I wrote this when I was about 16. Maybe 15. My poetry was so dark then. I was so depressed. I’m not as deep into my depression as I was then, but a lot of my work still applies to my life. This, though, stuck out the most. It actually completely describes this entire year so far. I’ve been introduced to a kind of pain I never thought I’d have to meet. But in that process, I met strength I thought I’d never have. I’ve had to say goodbye more times than I’ve ever had to, and these last few weeks, I’ve kind of said goodbye to myself. Hello to a new me. I’ve been speechless lately. I never know what to say, I never care to say anything. My heart has been broken from losing the most important person in my life, and with him gone, I might never be the same again. A piece of me has died. More like a chunk. I’ve been dealing it with well.

“I lost my mind long ago down that yellow brick road.”

When I wrote this, I’m sure some guy broke my heart or something but it’s clearly insignificant because I can’t even remember. This is different though. I’ll remember this pain forever for both good and bad reasons. This person has disappeared from my life and he took my peace with him. In any case, I’ve enjoyed being speechless. It’s given my life an eerie silence and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want to force myself to do anything. I just want So, hello and goodbye to life.

I was pretty wise then. Dark, but wise.

Sisters of the Swamp


There comes a time in a young mans life when he must decide if he will choose to insert his graceful hands into the tender, beating heart of a woman, or vainly abuse her beauty simply to ravage her nature in hopes of being rewarded with the affirmation that he is, indeed, a man.

We are The Sisters of the Swamp, and here, those vile creatures come to die. The opposites believe themselves to be so sly, so filled with power that women are beguiled by their words and slick actions. Fools! We are more aware than they care to acknowledge. Our brains are not filled with rose petals covered in mist, our wits consist of different worlds and ideas, so much more than we are ever credited. We do not sway our hips for the amusement of these animals, nor is our sole purpose to be undermined, sheltered, and submissive. These men, the lustful animals that walk amongst us, deserve to be taught a lesson.

And we are here to fulfill that purpose.

Such filth are their brains. They refuse to see beyond the surface; heaven forbid they dare to dig deeper than plowing through the sunflower fields of a woman. These creatures, these tormentors, crawl the earth beneath the guise of innocence. As if their sheer fascination of the female form is anything but tactless selfishness hidden behind faux smiles and ingenuous acts. Monsters! We see beyond their cracked facade. We have been blessed with the ability to distinguish the kind-hearted from the malicious, grimy beasts.

For such weak individuals that pride themselves on being masculine and more intelligent, luring them is an effortless task.

Hunters and gatherers, visitors of these dark woods, always find themselves drinking from our fresh waters. We release an enticing aroma into the tepid air, and those who follow, those who find it an indomitable feat to resist our radiance, are the living, breathing poisons we live to annihilate.

“Come hither, my handsome new admirer. I have places I’d like for you to explore…and one kiss from me, your life will open up in ways you couldn’t have possibly imagined.”

I watch as their eyes light up, and their parts swell at the excitement of my beauty. The fullness of my breasts, the curve of my body…the life in my hips. They simply cannot resist.

So we teach them a lesson.

“Won’t you come closer, my dear? I’ve something for you to see…do my lips look inviting? I’ll allow you a taste if you come near..”

The ‘L’ Word


“To tell you the truth, I’m pretty lonely. I’ve been surrounded by people my entire life, but there’s a special kind of sadness that accompanies you when you don’t have anyone around to understand the scary things growing in the corner of your mind. It drove me to alcoholism. It drove me to losing my first my husband. Loneliness is the one thing in my life I haven’t been able to shake, and well, it makes me unrecognizable to my own self. At my age, I don’t know who I am. From being lonely, I’ve gotten into business that had nothing to do with me. On the bright side, it makes me look at people differently. It makes me wonder who’s hiding a frown or a confused expression under a glittering mask of gold smiles. It’s wise to see beyond certain things. You know how they say that curiosity killed the cat? Let’s just say I’m constantly wondering why I’m still here. Loneliness is an unwavering force, much stronger than some might think. It comes in the stillness of the night…and it never, ever leaves. Not even in the brightness of the morning light.”



“You know how much I love you, right.”

It was more of a statement than a question. He knew, and I knew he knew.

We lied there quietly, fear and smoke amidst the air. Words and thoughts we’d never allow to breathe hung from the ceiling by a little thread, and here we were just…existing.

“It’s hard to tell with you threatening my life.”

Moments earlier, he extinguished a cigarette on my thigh and watched as I silently endured the pain. He pinned me down and said that if I moved, he’d make it worse. I believed him. Over the years, we’ve isolated ourselves. No one understands why we’re together or what we’re doing exactly, but I don’t owe anyone an explanation. I might owe myself one, but I don’t ask questions I don’t want the answer to.

So we remain together in this whirlwind of a lifestyle. We remain in the darkness, and this oasis of destruction that we’ve created somehow brings me peace. I don’t care to go for walks in the park, I don’t need flowers. He doesn’t require a hot meal be prepared in his absence, nor does he need me to be a doting partner hanging onto his every word. We just are. He just is, I just am, and it works.

It feels like I’m blindfolded on a rollercoaster every single day of my waking life.

It feels like my old life was kidnapped. Somehow, it feels like I’ve been tossed in an unnamed van, taken to an unknown location just to have a man named Pablo stick a needle in my arm as nameless, faceless men riddle in and out of me.

Except, he isn’t Pablo. And nothing that has happened to me occurred against my will.

His name is Louis, but everyone calls him Trig. They call me Micky. We’ve gotten into a lot of weird shit together, but the most toxic thing we’ve ever been involved in happens to be each other. In the span of three years, he’s managed to completely purge me of a soul. Looking into the mirror always leaves me feeling ghastly and afraid because staring back at me seems to be an empty carcass. Then he appears, putting both fear and amazement in me, shadowing any light that could come near.

With my gun against his temple, I assessed our lives together. I’ve been tempted to rob him of his next breath on multiple occasions, but I’m afraid of how much I’ll miss him. I’m afraid of what would happen to me.

As we lied there in bed together, I thought about the empty bottles littering the floor, random debris strewn about. I thought about how I ended up here, and what I’d miss if I didn’t have this anymore.

I closed my eyes and removed the gun from his temple, then placed it on mine. I could feel his hands on my body. For a cold-hearted, soulless man, his hands were always warm and inviting. They touched me in the right places with the gentlest caress. His hands told me everything I needed to know about how he felt about me. They handed me his heart on rusty platter and expressed the things he would never say. Holding the gun to myself, I thought of how much I’d miss his hands.

I could feel him begin to fondle my breasts, circling my nipple with his fingers anticipating their inevitable hardening. My heart raced, blood pumping through my veins with a fierce intensity, warning me of oncoming tears. Louis squeezed my waist, and into my ear, he said,

“Do it.”

“Don’t ask for something you don’t really want.”

“If it makes you happy, it makes me happy.”

We sat in silence. I cursed his name, then he cursed mine. After a few moments, he licked the side of my face like he was a dog and I, his master. He continued to lick me, slobbering on my face and ear, watching me and waiting for a reaction.

I racked the slide, flipped the safety off and put my finger on the trigger, then he stopped. I could feel the goose bumps rising on his chest. As he opened his mouth to speak, I put the gun back on the side of his head. I pushed it deeper and deeper into him, daring him to even breathe the wrong way.

“I hate you,” I spat.

“Prove it,” he said.

Love is the best thing we can experience as humans. It’s complicated, but so addicting in the most beautiful way. It’s tantalizing. You can’t explain why you keep going back to the one thing that has the power to kill you, you just do. Love is life. Just to have the ability to feel it, no matter how painful, is a joy all in itself. To love him is painful. To wake up and be this person is heartbreaking. I wish every day that I could make him feel the knife sliding up and down my veins, slicing my skin on its journey. To feel the utmost hatred for someone, yet be so enamored by their being is confusing and catastrophic, but I endure this feeling day in and day out because my life without him is bland and ordinary.

So I shot him in the leg.

“Do you feel my love for you now, baby?”

I silently watched him endure the pain, threatening to make it worse if he moved.



To be filled with so much doubt,
So much angst.
To be constantly feeling every curve
Of the anticipation you create.
To feel everything,
At all times..
It’s tiring, it hurts.
It spells and smells
Of defeat.
It leads to dead ends
With lonely, rusted signs
Awaiting the return
Of the person who thought
It was all gone.
Except it’s not.
Feelings will always dredge up
The unwanted..
This doubt is eating me,
I’m fighting myself,
Choking the hell out of my own life
And I patiently await the day it stops..
But perhaps the madness
Has only just begun.

Part 2

Before we got out of the car, Michael grabbed my hand and squeezed tightly. I looked at him with concern and asked what was on his mind.

“What if they don’t like me? What if they want you to leave me or something?” He cast his eyes in the direction of the front door, fearing that stepping through the threshold would change the course of our paths forever. I put my hand over his heart, and then I grabbed his to put over mine. Michael was letting his wild assumptions and every worst case scenario he’d created to get the best of him. He wouldn’t even look at me. With my free hand, I lifted his chin and finally found his eyes. Trying my best to reassure him, I spoke softly and said, “Hey, it’s me and you. We’re in this together, no one else. It’ll always be just us, okay? I love you. I really, really love you, Michael.”

Still not sure about the evening, he dropped his hand and sat back in his seat looking defeated without even having gone into battle. I didn’t know him to be this way. I made light of the situation and threatened, “If you don’t say that you love me back right now, I’ll give you wet willies while you’re sleeping every day for the next week.” The car immediately filled up with the sound of his boisterous laughter, and then the brightness of my smile.

“You think I won’t? I totally will, like I swear. Every single day.” I jokingly put my finger in his ear and made it seem as if I was going to give him one right then.

He continued to laugh and then pulled me into him. “You’re insane.” We kissed for a few seconds, and then finally stepped out into the brisk air.

Walking on the cobble stone pathway leading to the red painted door of my parents’ house, it’s safe to say that my energy had shifted. Now, I was the one who probably needed some consoling. Not having been there in a while, I admired the tree swing that hung from the huge oak tree in their front yard. Flashbacks of my childhood bombarded me and all I could see were visions of my sister and me running all across the yard. We’d take turns pushing each other on the swing and chase each other endlessly for reasons unknown to me after all these years. I couldn’t help my notice that my mother had done some gardening, and from the looks of it, my father trimmed the hedges. Forty-five years of marriage and they still did everything together. Right before we got to the door, I swept the front yard with my eyes once more and breathed in the pine scented air. Then finally, I rang the doorbell.

“You ready?” Michael asked. I looped my arm through his and winked at him. I was as ready as I could be.

About five seconds later, the door swung wide open and my parents stood there standing with their arms outstretched and smiles so big it couldn’t fit on their faces.

“Lysseeeeeee!” they shouted in unison.

My mom immediately began to squeal, grabbing me and touching my everywhere. She spewed the same line she always did about me abandoning her for the big city, and as I always did, I told her we only lived thirty minutes away from each other. She’s very dramatic, my mother. My dad swooped me up into a big hug and kissed my cheek. He pushed me away and gave me a once over only to pull me back in for a bigger hug. Every time I saw my parents, they acted as if I didn’t come by at least once a month. Michael stood there smiling awkwardly until I could introduce him. When I was finally set free, I put my arm around Michael and said, “Guys, this is my boyfriend Michael.”

He extended his hand to my father for a handshake and leaned into my mother to kiss her on the cheek. Pleasant smiles were exchanged, and with words dripping in sincerity, Michael said, “Please, just call me Mike. It’s so nice to finally meet you guys. Alyssa has told me so much about how great you are.”

Before they spoke, they stared at him. They ushered us inside, and my mom laughed awkwardly, but they actually really just stared at him.

“We’re glad to meet you too, Mike. What is that you like to drink? I’m not sure I have any Vodka or anything else that’s hip.”

I froze.


I looked at Michael and prayed to baby Jesus that this evening wouldn’t crash and burn before the main course. Before I could interject, Michael laughed and said, “I’ll just have whatever you’re drinking.”

“Good man, Mike.” My dad clapped him on the back and began to pour him a drink.

As they talked, my mother pulled me aside and said, “Honey, why didn’t you fill us in on your friend?”

This couldn’t be happening.

I gave her a warning look with my eyes and said, “Mom…don’t.”

“No, honey, it’s fine. It just would’ve been nice to know, is all.”

Trying to keep our voices down, I harshly whispered to her, “What does it matter? Mom, seriously, don’t bring this up again. Be. Nice.”

She put her arms up in defense and walked away from me to finish preparing things in the kitchen.

While walking toward the guys, assuming that Michael needed some saving, my mom called out to us from the kitchen and said, “I hope you don’t mind Michael, but I made rack of lamb. I could whip up some chicken if you’d like, though!”

I cringed. I cringed deeply and wanted to set the entire house on fire, with my parents inside. Michael, again, laughed and I had to love him for it. I slid my hand into his and squeezed, silently apologizing for the last ten minutes and everything else that would transpire after that.

Very kindly, Michael called back, “I guess Alyssa didn’t tell you guys I’m a vegetarian.”

Red Moon


I often wonder if our desires are foolish.

This game we continue to play of
Running back and forth between
Our hearts and the inevitable truth
Makes it almost unbearable to exist.
While I’m eager to quit
And resume the life
I lived before you..
A brush against your lips
Makes it easy to persist
This nocuous tryst
That has somehow begun to
Define me.

The mere hope of detaching myself
From this relentless grasp
Is futile.
And time seems to be…
It watches in amusement
At our attempts to move beyond it..
&Act as if we’re in control.
Act as if this lie is ours.

Long ago,
I came to terms with the idea that
This might be it.
What we’ve created might never
See the radiance of the sun..
It might never feel the wind blowing through,
Just the taunting breeze of a midnight sky.

But I think I’d put this dagger
Through my very own heart
If it meant spending one more second
In your reach.
I’d endure the torture of
The incapability of the seizing of
Your heart
day after day,
Living this lie
Hiding in the shade of your shame..
Just to breathe in the breaths
You release.

If only to feel the expansion of
My mind,
The deepening of my heart
Just at the thought of you placing your hand on me..

I think I’d willingly remain in this
Constant state of apprehension.

Just Trying This Out…Bare With Me

*Feedback would be greatly appreciated!


“Tonight’s going to be perfect, right?” I asked expecting an answer that I wanted to hear.

As I did some last minute touch-ups to my hair, Michael sidled up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

Mocking me in the voice of a California valley girl, he said, “Yeah, babe. It’ll be, like, so totally perfect.”

I laughed heartily and stepped on his foot for making fun of me. He watched as I fussed over my make-up, even though it was already perfect, and right as I was putting on the white gold hoop earrings he’d gotten me for Christmas last year, we locked eyes through the mirror. Time seemed to have stopped in that moment. The intensity of Michael’s hazel eyes shot a bolt of electricity through my body. He tightened his grip on me and began to kiss the nape of my neck. Knowing that his doing so would ultimately lead to something we had no time for, I tried to put some distance between us, but my efforts went unnoticed. I’ll admit, I probably could’ve tried a little harder. But as goose bumps trailed the back of my arms, my resolve slowly weakened. As much as I could have tried to resist the impulse of his sex drive, the desires of my own intervened. I watched as he smiled coyly from feeling triumphant in winning over my affection. I smiled back, but once the tip of his tongue began to trace the side of my neck then up to my ear, I suddenly found it hard to do anything but control my breathing. At first, he moved very slowly, making sure to hit every spot, but then he became aggressive. Michael intensely sucked on my neck, moving down to my collar bone causing me to emit soft moans that I could no longer hold in.

Michael pushed me closer to the counter, bending me slightly towards the sink. I arched my back and spread my legs a bit wider. He followed my lead by slowly sliding up the hem of my dress up my thighs. Catching his eye through the mirror once more, I smirked as I placed one hand on the counter for leverage and the other behind my back so I could undo his belt buckle. Michael leaned into me and chuckled into the crook of my neck. His warm breath tickled my senses and I felt a shiver go up my spine. He always seemed to know which buttons to push, when to push them, and how to. His gentle hands and soft lips always made it hard for me to deny his advances, especially when my body seems to cave into him every time he touches me. Looking at him in that moment, I couldn’t help but feel how much I loved him. I already knew I did, but as he kissed me tenderly, I could actually feel every part of my love for him and it was amazing. It also made me want him that much more. I quickly maneuvered his belt and let my hands roam freely through my favorite parts of him, but right as I was about to free him, he jolted and took a step back. I searched for his eyes in the mirror and when I found them, I silently questioned his hesitance. Understanding my facial expression, he explained by saying, “Honey, it’s fine. I just didn’t think we were doing it all in one shot.”

Bewildered, I turned to face him. I laughed and shot back, “What does that even mean? Did you want to do a little bit now and then save the rest for later? We’re going to my parents’ house, Mike. You’re gonna need to loosen me up a bit.”

Michael scrunched his forehead and fixed himself after I’d messed his clothes up. “Loosen you up for what? From what I recall, you were pretty sure everything would be perfect tonight.”

I scowled and punched him playfully in his stomach. Defending myself, I said, “It is! It’s just your first time meeting my parents, and you know, it’s nerve-wracking. You’re not even a little bit nervous?”

While I helped him tuck his shirt back in and buckle his pants, Michael pushed me back toward the counter, and with his hands on my waist, he replied, “Well, I don’t have a reason to be. Unless, of course, you’re afraid they won’t like me because I’m b—“

Before he could finish his sentence, I put my hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare, Michael.”

We’ve always been aware of the differences between us, they’re kind of hard to miss. You’d think people could get past that sort of thing by now, but we get stared at, pointed at, and people even call us names sometimes. It was really hard in the beginning, but one day, we sat down and talked about it. We decided that we wouldn’t allow outsiders to affect something they knew nothing about. We lengthily discussed why we loved each other, and then we physically expressed those sentiments. That was the best part. Most importantly, though, Michael and I have never even truly noticed what’s different about us. We’ve always been too concerned with the things that have brought us together, and the few things that do differentiate us, we embrace. If the world didn’t get that, they had to take that up with themselves. I took a moment to look into his eyes. Cupping his sweet face with my hands, I told him I loved him. Our opinions of each other were the only ones that mattered.

After about another twenty minutes of rearranging my outfit and hair, not to mention the countless groans I was getting from Michael, we were finally out the door and en route to face the determinant factor of the rest of my life. Well, just two. Not all.