I promise you guys I will get my act together and get these things posted when they are supposed to be posted. November was a crazy month full of constant ups and downs and I am just happy that it is coming to a close. This year is going to be a big year for me personally, and there is so much that I am looking forward to/dreading. I hope that you will still be along for the ride as I continue onward. Thank you my friends, Next month will be a much cleaner ordeal.
In the 49th episode of HIMYM, Ted introduces the gang to a girl that he had met, whose name he couldn’t remember. This episode brought us the great “Hot, Crazy Scale” from Barney. During the episode, they reminisce about the ways each of them met one another and it ends with them realizing there was a possibility that Lily kissed Ted before she had kissed Marshall.
It’s nice to reminisce on old stories. I personally love telling them. The tales about things that made my friends what they are to me today. For example, in sixth grade, my best friend Travis was really into this girl and I was also into the same girl. We began the race for her attention honorably, but as they always do, that race turned into a bloodletting competition between us. Travis was getting all of the attention and I was pissed about it so one day I decided that I wanted to fight him. On the playground, just after lunch, I got pissed and popped Travis in the mouth. Shortly after that he turned around and planted my ass in the woodchips because he didn’t want to fight me. ,I was insulted and in pain, but I regained my footing and promptly leapt onto his back, taking him to the ground with me. That was about when the teachers broke us up and put us both in detention. Not long after that, Travis and I made up and we became friends, the girl was essentially out of the picture because after that day it was clear to me that she wasn’t into me, Travis had a cooler sweatshirt.
Or a time with a couple of my other wonderful friends. We were in choir and on a trip to San Francisco. In the hotel room, a bunch of us lined up in the hallway and started singing songs together for the other guests and to impress some of the cute girls without singing talent. (A short sighted plan as they were also in the choir with us and it wasn’t that impressive to them.)
I hold a fond memory on the night of my 21st birthday party with two friends, one of whom took a shot of Patron for every year that I was alive and ended up braining himself on a garage door while my other friend and I looked on in a state of drunken euphoria.
I hold all of these moments so close to my heart, and while the stories may evolve and change over time, that is because I am a story teller. The devil is in the details, and the details remain the same. Every story I have spins a small yarn about one or more of my friends and I would not exchange those memories, even the bad things, for the world.
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