I once was a writer...

Say you have a friend. A very dear friend. And one day, he tells you he met someone. And you're all, like, OMG that is so awesome! You encourage your friend and, in trying to show your support for the relationship, establish some kind of virtual connection with the new girl he's seeing. It's all going great: you like her, she likes you, your friend likes her, she likes your friend, you and your friend like each other - it is like the mecca of friendship/love relationships. And then you decide to hold a birthday party. Only this is a very special birthday party, because it's one of those milestone thingies and you will hold a huge party -- not huge enough that every single contact on your facebook friends list is invited, but huge enough that you are spending all of your savings in said party. Family from around the world is flying in... like, OMG WOW. Of course your friend is invited -- he is your very best friend, after all. And since you like the girl he is dating...

As I was lying in bed earlier today, devouring my third easter chocolate bar, I said to Honey, "If it doesn't rain, I will ride my bike to class tomorrow." Honey made a face, and I --my mouth filled with chocolate, teeth brown and all-- said to him, "I need to have some kind of movement, Honey, some kind of exercise. I feel like a cow!" He stopped what he was doing. I believe the world stopped spinning for a split second. As he was about to make some mean, evil comment about the fact that I am, in fact , a cow, I yelled at him to stop - to shut up. In the midst of my screaming I even spit a little chocolate onto his back. "Don't you dare say a word," I shrieked, "don't you dare agree with me that I am a cow. Choose your words wisely, Honey, because the wedding can still be cancelled." He looked at me with the loveliest puppy-dog eyes, the ones he uses when he knows he messed up. He looked at me with those eyes and said, "I ...