When you’re certain that your ass is prolapsing there is
very little that you can do but attempt to memorize everything in your
immediate vicinity; in case you don’t come out of this one alive.
I grew up on a cul-de-sac in Northern California – San Leandro,
to be exact. My family moved there when I was 7. It didn’t take long for me to
meet who would become my best friend for the next many years. Jillian – I know
you’re reading this right now and…Bitch, I hate you so much! Jillian and I did
typical girl stuff: talked about boys, smoked cigarettes, played vindictive games
on her little sister and sang karaoke. We had some epic sessions too. Should we
ever get the back together, I demand a rematch! I also demand that Jillian
drink a bottle of wine to her face first though, that way I have a fighting
chance. Jillian was the kind of girl you
loved to hate. She was smart, funny, beautiful, thin and blonde. I was smart,
funny, fat and angry. We played off one another’s strengths though, or at least
that’s how I choose to remember it. She is still a smart, beautiful, funny - and
if pictures are correct, blonde woman. Again, I hate you!
I have always been a competitive person and especially so
with her. She can’t be perfect!! It’s not fair! Opportunity struck one afternoon
when we were messing around in her garden. We’ll get there…patience. I even
envied her parents. Her mother smoked these cigarettes that were long and thin
and I remember thinking that they were so glamorous. Later I would dub those
same cigarettes “Vagina Slimes.” Kids – they change on a dime. Her mother would
be the one to take me out to sushi for the very first time. Thanks a lot Judy,
now I have a habit I can’t afford. Champagne taste on a beer budget. Keep this
up too much longer and I’ll be turning tricks for Spanish Rolls and sashimi plates.
I blame you! LMAO! We’re in her backyard that afternoon and Jillian looks at me
says: “I dare you to eat one of those peppers.” *We had already been drinking
Pace Picante hot sauce to see who was tougher and got bored so that’s how we
wound up in the back yard* Game on, Bitch!
My best and most logical thinking was that I would pop this
little round red pepper into my mouth and swallow the little bastard whole. I
was a clever girl and knew if you didn’t bite into the seeds; chances were you’d
be fine. I opened wide, tossed it in and damnit it, it’s too big. I can’t swallow
it! I have to bite into this bitch! It is instantaneously hot in my mouth. Like
fire and brimstone. Cartoon shit is happening with my face and Jillian has
taken three or four steps back from me like she expects that I will explode. I
am crying from my ears at this point but have managed to swallow the pepper. I’ll
be damned if I won’t complete this challenge. By this time she sees that I am
actually hurting. She gets up from her kitchen floor – where she has fallen;
presumably to stop from wetting herself. My eyes are bleeding, my ears are
crying, and I’m sweating from glands that should not yet have developed at the
age of 12. I have thrown my body into hyper drive. She reaches into her
refrigerator *should be noted that she is concerned about replacing the items
that she is handing me to ease my pain. I AM FUCKING DYING JILLIAN!!* and
starts handing me stuff to drink.
3
glasses of Iced Tea
4
glasses of Whole Milk
2
slices of bread
Nothing is happening
2
Chocolate Jell-O Pudding cups
3
Glasses of Water
OF COURSE I REMEMBER THIS SHIT – I AM DYING!!!
We decide to take this party into the bathroom. Jillian
(still hate you) is concerned but still getting a kick out of this. I’ve written
in some detail about my love/hate relationship with lactose, right? How many
glasses of whole milk and Jell-O did I just consume??? Yep, the bathroom is
spinning and I’m in full sweats. I will
take alcohol detox any day over this. It is at this point that I am certain
that my ass is falling out. I can’t remember if I asked her to leave as I
heaved my ass onto her toilet and tried to memorize everything. It was a
humbling moment to say the least. Had I died that day the last things I would have seen would have been the
following: blue bathroom tile, yellow bath rug, Rave hair spray (aerosol) a
curling iron and blow dryer belonging to her mother. I could recreate that
bathroom now if you asked me to. I had diarrhea for two weeks straight after
that little incident. Yep, still hate you Jillian! I have never been quite right
since; can’t honestly say that I was “right” to begin with.
I hadn’t planned on writing about this. I hadn’t planned on
thinking about this EVER again, but when your girlfriend sends you a message
out of the blue and jars loose a memory - I have no choice. Thanks for bringing
this to the surface for me again today, Jillian.
All my love,
Tina
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