In other news, my boyfriend has a total mullet.

Yes, this happened to me.

This was after a shower, so you can't really see the spikes (!!!) the girl put in. Which is a cryin shame.

He had some long hair, and decided it was time to cut it. I was cool with this. He is darling with buzzed or cropped hair. But first, he decided, he needed to cut a mullet into it. You know, for a day. To make Kirsten smile. He asked me to do it, but I could not accept the challenge. He needed to appeal this to Brynn, the girl that normally cuts it.

She was a good sport, although I'm not sure she was thrilled to have him leave her salon with hair like that. I was rock climbing when he was having it cut. We decided to meet up for his roommate's birthday - and the bday boy wanted to go to Bliss (a club). I've never been there. I'm not the clubbing type. I go be-boppin in, all by myself. That was mistake number one.

I wandered around what could only be described as a big bar full of horny drunk people, for about 15 minutes, with no sign of Reboyf or the lost boys. There were men who saw my alone-ness as an opportunity, wanting to know what I drank, etc, telling me they knew my boyfriend wasn't a black man, and that my boyfriend didn't care about me, and that they'd tell me why, etc. (Answer: A black man wouldn't let his girlfriend walk around a club alone, and if my boyfriend cared about me, he would never make me MEET him at the club). (Yes, the person who offered up this enlightenment was a black man, and a big motherf****r too, and I'm so damn white and unsmooth, I was completely dumbfounded by all the crap he was saying). A hooch came up to throw herself at him and I made a run for it, ending up plopping down on a leopard print couch, a little pissed. Don't make me MEET you at the STUPID CLUB which I'm not slutty enough for, and then expect me to just navigate through social situations I'm not bred for, and then NOT SHOW UP. Some creep sitting across the room was staring at me, and I swore he had a camaro cut, so I avoided eye contact with him to the best of my ability until I could feel his smile boring into my skull. It was ReBF and His Mullet. Clubbin together, just the two of them. The Black Man (and others) undoubtedly saw me with Reboyfriend and The Mullet. I'm sure they were impressed.

We left early and hit Sconecutter, and had French dip (with cheddar, which is not so French, and also secretly yum), and Sprite in a white trash picnic on my bed while talking about real estate.

He had to go to the final SuperX race in Vegas the next day. He was running many errands, and didn't get around to removing the Offender-Coiffe. He had to rock it the entire weekend.

And it's Tuesday. And, you guys, for some ungodly reason, he's been busy, and it's still there.

It was his birthday yesterday. He pretty much endured a full 24 hours of perfectly orchestrated hell. Among several other ordeals, this day included him running over his blackberry with a semi, me misinterpreting (and going ape shit about) another legitimate, harmless joke, which he had to patiently explain to me. And I then felt instantly stupid (if you recall, this was not the first time this happened).

It was cute. He called (from a borrowed phone) all excited to be talking to me, and I proceeded to wig out on him through indignant sniffles without being able to spit out what he did wrong. He couldn't understand me, had no idea why I was mad this time, and kept saying "Kir, I can't understand you. Please don't hang up. Why are you mad? Don't hang up. I'm sorry, please tell me why you're mad, I promise I can't think of anything I did. Don't hang up."

He had a rough day. He had to take a load to Southern Utah on his birthday. Ugh. So instead of going out for dessert and having foot rubs and gifts, we ended up pulled over on a dirt road on the outskirts of Lehi with a bag of Wendy's, leaving his loaded truck on an on-ramp. After hours of getting lost and missing each other all over town, with no phone contact and only telepathy to rely on. 

We had about an hour before he had to drive through the night to unload in Blanding, so we had to make it quick. This is how I got to give him his birthday gifts, under the unflattering dome light of my car's interior. But he loved them, and he completely forgot that it had been his worst birthday ever. 

Which brings me to today's Quote Board.

ReBF: [burying his head in my neck across the console of my car, clutching his presents in his lap] I don't know what the rest of our lives, um, not contain...

Me: Hold?

RB: ...hold. 

Me: Ok.

RB: But I am willing to find out. 

Me: [silence] [but in my head, meltage]

RB: It's going to take some patience on both of our parts. Like, there are going to be times when you're going to have to put up with me always losing my phone, and times when I'm going to have to say "Don't hang up."

 

It made the mullet kind of cute.