Second most frequent question I get since I moved here (beaten roughly by “If you’re Mexican, why are you white?”) is:
“How can you be so ok with having your parents this far away?”
Well, I’m not so ok with it; I learned, from a very young age, geography is a bit of a bitch. However, the founder of Skype would be very pleased to know I probably talk more to my mother since I got here than when we were living under the same roof.
I’ve become a girl who tells everything to her mother… *giggles* ok, not everything. Here are some of my best stories that had to be modified in order to make them suitable for my mommy:
Dude and I talked for hours that night […]1, he was so fun. He walked me home […]2 and asked for my phone number.
1and we ended up spending the night together
After I “broke up” with Dude I wasn’t really that sad; I went straight up to my friend’s, Grey, room, we talked […]3 and I realized it wasn’t really a big loss […]4.
3 while we smoked weed
4 since everything was funny and nothing hurt
Judas and I walked around town […]5 and we just kept sharing glances and lightly touching our hands, which lasted for an hour or two… He did hold my hand later that night […]6 […]7 […]8, no kissing, though.
5 because Muffin and her boyfriend were fucking in our only hostel room
6 when we were both sleeping on the same bed
7 where Muffin and Muffin Man fucked earlier that night
8 while they kept fucking in the bathroom
That crappy night suddenly got better when I spotted that cute guy from classes. We talked […]9 left the bar […]10, kept talking […]11; he kissed me […]12 but then he said he didn’t want anything serious; I said it was ok and kept talking […]13.
9 and made out
10 to the backseat of his car
11 and making out
12 amongst other things
13 and making out
Do mothers really want to know all the details?
I’m 21, if I’m a screw-up, I’m too old to be fixed. Since I’m not selling my body in exchange of heroine, I see no harm in my mother thinking I’m a straight-edge virgin.