The Cruel Green Waterbug's Poison Project

It went off without a hitch.
I know, everyone's thinking 'Oh no! No madcap wacky zaniness? Well, no. Not one bit.
He's nice.
Dinner went fine, socializing afterwards went fine, pointing to the spot on the carpet where the goonybird was born went fine (not an ACTUAL spot, for heavens sake I DO clean)
It all went fine.
This must be someone elses life. I feel disoriented.

And now I must be off the the doctors office to have blood drawn. Yippie shit!

-back.
I feel like I won the lottery*! A fasting blood draw and a surprise urine sample.I hope they can make do with the spare teaspoonful I had to offer. All they're going to find is that I really needed some coffee. I want both specimens collected around 11am, when they actually effervesce in the container from all the caffeine. That would be a much more accurate representation of my vital bodily fluids. This way, 9 a.m., hell I could barely drive.

Anyway, I am really bemused by the whole dinner experience last night. The guy was so normal. A little nervous, yeah, you expect that, but otherwise...damn.
So lets recap...He
1. Does not live with his parents
2. Is not in near-constant contact with his parents, and does not ask 'How high?' whenever they say 'Jump'.
2 1/2. Does not have a lame, ghetto sister who named her poor little baby 'Camus' and who still insists a. that 'Camus' is a wine variety, and b. that it's pronounced 'Kay-miff.'
3. Does not in fact even live in the same state as his parents.
4. Has a job, an apartment and a running car.
5. Is not a useless hippie arts major emo dipshit. (former boyfriend 'I'd rather you spend your gas money coming to visit me in a distant city so I can subsequently ignore you and be a tormented emo boy and write this script that nobody will ever see ')
6. As far as I could tell, he did not show up stoned. Or too stoned to function. Fine; he didn't smell stoned and he could make conversation and drive and he hit the toilet and remembered to put the seat down and that's all you can ask for. You bet I'm hedging. But I don't think he was stoned. Much. Also, he
7. Did not dissappear for extended periods of whispering with my daughter throughout the course of the evening. For points two, two point five, six and seven I have ex-boyfriend B, or 'Dishrag Jr.' as I think of him, in mind...a big goofy Dutch dumbass my daughter used to haul around by the nose who had no discernable ambition or personality.
8. Worked well with the Goonybird.

I will NOT get my hopes up.
I will NOT get my hopes up.
I will NOT get my hopes up.



*The one in the Shirley Jackson story