Salute Your Dignity Goodbye

Hello Blogworld,

There is a familiar saying in my house called "PLD". For those of you who do not know, PLD is the most useful abbreviation in the english language. It stands for "Poor Life Decision". Plural, PLD's refers to the collaborative total number of moments in your life where you sit and think to yourself "What, the, fuck". My roomates and I have become spokes models for the phrase, and with pride I might add. Lately however, I have been rather dry of my PLD making abilities. Call it a dry spell, but my life had been lacking those moments that really 'wow' people. That is until last night.

Call it a lack of self control, I like to call it the curse of female stupidity. After a whirlwhind of a Thursday in preparations for the senior bar crawl that happens every year, it was time to board the bus, and put your game faces on for the night. Blackouts, well these were inevitable and well recieved among many. Inhibitions were aparently thrown to the wind. Some individuals known to myself even wandered quite inebriated to the neighboring suburbs, shoeless, broke, and cell phone less. Now that's a night out in my eyes. These kind of things can be chalked up to the ultimate PLD. No, no, my PLD was much more subtle, yet not less shocking.

Well after several rounds of delicious shots and some not so delicious ones mel petes was in rare form. Or rather a form that hasn't come out in a while. Needless to say conversations were had amongst myself and a 'blast from the past'. During these rather heated discussions there was a little man inside of my head having a field day because the irony of the situation would have made the writers of those very cheezy soap operas proud. I'm ready for my Oscar now thank you. For some reason this little man wrote words for me to say that were rather empowering. I laid it out to 'blast from the past' like no tomorrow. I was tired of being a rag doll in his twisted emotional soul searching. I had the power back, and I loved that. However after a few rambunctious rounds of making out, I knew that I had gotten myself into trouble, so I do what any self respecting girl would do in this situation of long lost whatever returning. I asked him to walk me home. The shock on my roomates faces as he walked in the door was priceless. Again, I put "The Young and the Restless" to shame. More talking, mixed with much more making out, led me to sending him home so I could go to bed. Well more so I could shove my face with the pepperoni goodness in my fridge. Successful night. I might say so.

Suprisingly, he held true to his promise today. Shocking. Could this be a turnaround? That little man inside my head is laughing at me. Feverishly. I choose to agree with the little man.

Well kids, trust me, I still have huge skeptisism. This would open a huge can of worms that I might like to stay closed. Go ahead, laugh. I am.