To: Self Control
From: Gordon
Dear Self Control,
Hey there! I know it's been a while since we've talked, and really, that's probably been my fault as much as anything. I know that over the past few years I've treated you like that friend who isn't really your friend, only spending time with you when there was nothing else to do. You know, only brining you around when the only other alternative was throwing myself down the stairs just to go to the emergency room in order to have something to do.
Now, keep in mind that without you to bring me down I've had some great moments. For example New Years 1999-2005, graduation in 2001, Las Vegas, and any other excuse to celebrate that I can think of. Without you there, I've been free to be myself, act as I wish, and pay the consequences at a later date.
However, as of late I've noticed a change. Suddenly, your abscence has only served to make me an angry, ill-tempered drunk. With out you to stand by me and say "You don't need that whiskey, you've already had 6 beers, two rum and cokes, and a shot of vodka", I've been running rampant. As I near the ripe old age of 27, I seem to be regressing to the level of a 4-year old girl, as Sarah so kindly put it.
This has led me to only one conclusion. I'm here, asking you to come back into my life. Whether I like it or not, I need you there to keep an eye on me, because I have proven that I am simply not what you would call a "resposible adult". Now, this in no way means that I'm looking for an exlusive relationship. There won't be any "don't eat that slice of pizza" or "let's go to the library instead of the bar". Noooo, not no chance, no how. I simply need a system of checks and balances to make sure that I don't ever wake up after a wedding, face down, thankful that I didn't choke on my own vomit, and not remembering how I got there or why I have my room key still clutched in my hand.
This is my plea to you. I hope you decide to accept, otherwise, the next time, I might end up in jail.
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6 comments:
Let me know what Self Control's response is.
Dear Gordo,
I've tried to be with you. You keep pushing me away by throwing gym bags across an intramural football field shouting angrily or ignoring me by pouting dramatically in a corner because you want to go to the LVT, again. It's hard to stick by you, when you neglect me time and time again. I'm not a battered spouse. You can't win me back with kind words and promises after you abuse my offers to be there for you. I really think I'm through with you and we both need to move on, accepting what can never be. We don't belong together.
Unless you prove you really love me and show steph your coke can...then I know you are serious.
Fondly,
Self Control
Holy shit, Steph, you are amazing!!! I just peed my pants!!
Gordo, 1 - did you honestly think I wasn't gonna say anything? Come on, man, I was blogging it in my head as it was happening.
2 - remember when your shirt was on inside out in the morning.
1- Touche....not that I am mad at you for mentioning it, obviously I just made fun of myself....
2- Yes, but that was to keep you from trying to unbutton it....
I'm picturing a large waiting room (kind of like a doctor's office) filled with Self Controls. They are idling around, reading magazines and waiting for us get our acts together. Mine actually sticks around most of the week, but then on the weekends he's there again, in the waiting room.
Do you suppose they compare stories as to who has the biggest jackass to deal with?
"My body told me to get lost this weekend and then she proceeded to go on a 36 hour bender that started innocently with watching football and culminated with her doing shots of Jager and playing craps in her backyard."
"Oh, that's nothing you should've seen my guy this last weekend he went to Vegas, got blitzed out of his mind and then went skinny dipping in the fountain in front of Paris."
Maybe you and I could switch our self controls. At least just while I'm in Greece. That way you can be good and I can be, well, out of control and lovin' every minute of it! No tantrums though.
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