I’m not too sure, and I’m not too proud to say…

About a year ago, I was chatting with Austin, the boyfriend I had through most of high school, and I asked him if he had fond memories of me.  This is what he said:

We had some great times, some crazy times, and I think you’re a good person. And yeah, I focus on the good memories. Life’s better that way, I think. Those people that always say they have no regrets, bunch of people that lie to themselves, but damn they’re probably the happiest too.

I found this chat log yesterday, and it made me really happy.  So I thought I’d share.

I really could use some emolliation right about now.

(Mr. E and I are playing a game of Lexulous on Facebook, and he’s winning.  The following conversation takes place)

Mr. E: prepare to be FB ameliorated
Kate: …honey?
ameliorated means “relieved.”
or eased.
Kate: http://www.merriam-webster.com/netdict/ameliorate
Mr. E: humm, sigh. facepalm
Kate: Now you know. Isn’t it nice to know?
Mr. E: I will *emolliate* you.
Mr. E:
and then ameliorate your ass.
Kate: You’re going to moisturize me?
Oh, honey.
Mr. E: With lotion.
Mr. E:
Kate: You mean “immolate.”
You sweet, precious thing.
Mr. E: fuck double facepalm
Kate: I feel great affection for you right now.
You know big words! Let’s just work on the definitions, shall we?

Read your damned Tolkien

(1:05:34 AM) Kate: Dana, in all honesty, I miss you. A lot.
(1:05:42 AM) Kate: I think about you fondly all the time.
(1:05:46 AM) Dana: you seem surprised!
(1:05:54 AM) Kate: I am, a little.
(1:06:02 AM) Kate: You’re dear to me.
(1:06:07 AM) Kate: Gah.
(1:06:10 AM) Kate: ENOUGH
(1:06:13 AM) Dana: i kind of sneak up on ya, huh
(1:06:15 AM) Kate: Whatever, Hobbit.
(1:06:33 AM) Dana: hobbits aren’t sneaky! if anything, I’m an elf
(1:06:34 AM) Kate: I don’t need you OR YOUR FURRY FEET.
(1:06:52 AM) Kate: Hobbits are very sneaky! Read your damned Tolkien.

[Dana does not have furry feet.  She’s just short.]


kate: I’m putting you as a contact for my SSI disability appeal.  If they write you, just tell them how sad and broken I am.
Jesse: okee dokee
Jesse: I actually think she’s been underdiagnosed. From an early age, her melancholy took a tragic turn. Her first suicide attempt, at 7, was what first drove my mother to the bottle, I think. Given our abusive and absent father, she was left mopping up the blood of her own daughter from the kitchen floor.
kate: That might be overdoing it, but whatever you feel.
Jesse: She had the first of many abortions at 11, after selling her body to a 40-year-old pervert for $5. Had it, that is, after she tried to do it herself with a rusty clothes hanger and nearly died of tetanus. She had been so excited when the lockjaw set it, thinking her suffering might finally be coming to an end. When she finally woke up, cured, the disappointment on her face was truly poignant. By this point, she no longer had the drive to even attempt suicide.
kate: That is SO SAD