The Silver Lining

I just posted a very negative/sad/depressing post. (See below.) I am not going to lie and pretend that there isn't a big, dark cloud hanging over me. There is. But (here comes the cheese...) there is a silver lining. And it all comes from K. Right now, she is my angel.

She took me out the other night. Granted, it wasn't the best night I've ever had, but I have no one to blame but myself for the bad parts. I'm such a doofus, I didn't even get to enjoy my vicodin before hurling everywhere. The thing is, what I really needed was to feel attractive and single and happy, and she definitely helped me out. She helped me select a hottie outfit, pointed out the guys checking me out (I don't know if they really were, but even if she was making it up, it felt good!), didn't give me a hard time about my cigarette crutch, and even drove. We only listened to two tracks all night: Natasha Bedingfield's Single and Kelly Clarkson's Walk Away. Total pop music bliss.

Then yesterday, she took me to the Peach Festival. It completely got my mind off of stuff. I spent the day with her and Sammy, walking around checking out her hometown. I got an ice cream cone and sat down on the grass to eat it. Sammy made us laugh. Once we got too hot and just couldn't take it anymore, we went to her parents' house. Her mom made us lunch. We watched a funny movie and napped. Then we got up and she showed me how to burn a CD on their computer and even sat with me to help me think of songs. Her dad and cousin watched Sammy for me. Soon it was dinnertime. Her parents made a huge spread: ribs, chili dogs, corn on the cob, salad, bread, boiled peanuts (not my thing, but Sammy's new favorite treat), brownies and the BEST peach cobbler I've ever put in my mouth. I think I ate about 4 pounds of food.

Then K and I got into the hot tub and had girl talk for about an hour and a half. Amazingly, she doesn't get sick of my dumb questions, ventings, pathetic whining or bad mood. Once our fingers were sufficiently pruned, we drove home, with Sammy konked out in the back seat. And leftover peach cobbler to take home.

She even let me listen to (and sing along to) my new CD on the way home. And I'm a terrible singer. Halfway through track 10, we realized it was blank until the end. Can I just tell you how much of a pisser that was??? Music is my therapy, and it was like my therapist left the room. It was suffocating, almost. But she offered to re-burn it for me.

She walked with me as I smoked a cig before going inside. And put in a funny movie for us to watch. I fell asleep on the couch. She let me sleep.

I heart K.