I'm Considering a Motorcycle

God has a ridiculous sense of humor. Like, for real. This is a long story that might disappear off the blog at any moment -- so take some notes if you're interested in retaining the details. Let us begin at the beginning:

I graduated from college around two o'clock on a very rainy and chilly afternoon last May. After the standard photos and congratulations, I spent most of the day trying to figure out how to pack four-years worth of crap into six suitcases. That evening, after a fine dinner out with my parents and friends, KM and I picked up some energy drinks and headed back to campus to celebrate the proper way. The irony of this whole thing is a bit surreal to me, but I love telling long stories to make short points, so please stick it out. Our campus has this blue sidewalk where each year, seniors sign their messages before leaving. SC and I had missed ours because we were up to no good with KM in Indiana at the Vera Bradley outlet sale, but lucky for us her fabulous boyfriend has snagged us a paint-pen. For weeks, we hadn't found a good time to sign, but seeing as how graduation night was out last chance...we had to do it then. We were liquid at this point and gathering our boys from their frat house, a group of us set off towards the sidewalk.

MH & CK (you'll remember them from this post), SC, her boyfriend, myself and two random alumni ventured up the Hill that night. Half-way there, SC and I decided that the boys were too drunk to not write completely inappropriate things on the sidewalk so we pretended to lose the pen and proceeded to stage a photo-shoot involving various campus statues. Who knew Thomas Jefferson liked Miller High Life? So, anyway, one of these said alumni is cute. Per my usual college shenanigans (haha, who am I kidding, they've hardly ended in college), he and I end up kissing behind central hall. I learn later that MH is not only his younger brother, but that MH had encouraged him to make a move, then persuaded the group to abandon us on the Hill. After Central Hall, we try unsuccessfully to steal bicycles, harass freshman dormitories, and ultimately end up jumping a fence at the college preschool to break-in to the playhouse. (Yeah. True story, I ripped the back pocket of my favorite jeans on that damn fence.) The story continues, but to say the least, the night was an excruciatingly perfect finish to my four years there. Photos and video exist by request only.

I realize that I sound like the captain of team slut here, but to be perfectly honest: one...I'm not, and two...I pretty much figured that this particular boy would saunter out of my life the way the rest have. Not in a hurtful or dramatic fashion, but those of you who know me are also quite aware that I've had a number one for many years.

The Govnah and I have quite the history, little of which needs to get rehashed here. He and I have spoken twice since I moved out east; both times he called me. Neither one of these phone-calls conjured up the butterflies that his caller ID used to, a fact that I took a lot of pride in. Finally, the healing process had started.

With everything that had changed: new job, new environment, amazing life -- how could it not? Suddenly I have the world at my fingertips, and one of the very last things on my mind are a marriage and family. Those things will happen later. However, this does nothing to change the fact that finding out about the Govnah's nuptials left me feeling like someone had dropped an anvil on my chest.

I suppose this is what I get for checking Facebook at work, but seriously, what the fuck? I promise I wasn't stalking -- well, at least it didn't start that way. It began with a photo on my newsfeed and ended with me finding photos of the wedding on his brother's profile page. Does anything in-between really matter? No. In the two conversations we've had in the last few months he explained that he was in the midst of starting a non-profit investigative journalism school for college students with the young woman who made waves a few years back when she dressed up as a hooker to expose voter fraud in acorn offices throughout the country.

Turns out this woman is now Mrs. Govnah.

Its not odd or surprising that he neglected to mention this to me; I think we both know it was unnecessary. Shocked, I stared at my screen for minutes, then I did what any hot-blooded girl would do: I searched through all the pictures to see a close-up of her ring (tragically unavailable), stepped out of my office, called my best friend (cried), called my mom (cried), stepped into the bathroom, cleaned up my act, touched up my make-up and carried on with my day. Oh, and somewhere in there, I penned a blog post.

Having had a few days to consider all of this, I gotta say, I think I dodged a bullet on this one. Moreover, I have some advice: if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, I suggest you hold yourself together long enough to get to the company Christmas party, where you proceed to drink loads of expensive wine and then win an iPad. I dunno, it made me feel better.

Also, that boy, the one who I imagined would just up and blow away like a snowflake? Well, one week after graduation he called himself an idiot for not getting my number, and actually, he actually hasn't gone anywhere since. Anywhere that is, except DC, where he has visited me...twice.

Oh, and here are some songs. Xoxoxo.

Adele - Rolling in the Deep

Snoop Dog - Wet (Hahaha, yeah, for real)

Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes - Home

Toby Keith - Bullets in the Gun

Marina & the Diamonds - Hollywood

The New Pornographers - Crash Years

Wiz Khalifa - Black & Yellow