I am living with Buddy Holly and dating Elvis

How am I living with Buddy Holly and dating Elvis you ask? Well if you have ever met my roommate Jake you would understand the reference and my boyfriend’s name is Elvis. Yes, as in the king . . . or at least he thinks so.

I met Elvis in a relatively unconventional way. After a long day of drinking I was walking home from a bar in Murray Hill. I had my head phones on singing Evanescence at the top of my lungs while walking down 3^rd Ave. In the middle of “Bring me to life . . .” I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see a guy trying to get my attention. I figure he is going to ask me for directions so I pull my ear buds out. He asks, “Can I buy you a drink?” I politely respond with, “No, fuck off,” and continue down the street singing “Wake me up inside, call my name . . .” I get about a half a block and he is tapping me on the shoulder again. I take one ear bud out proclaim, “What?” “Please, just have one drink with me.” I looked him up and down, it dawns on me that he has what sounds like an Italian accent. On his forearm there is a tattoo that reads ‘<>’. I tell him that he is a gangster wannabe, no good bad news m-f’er that needs to leave me alone. This charade went on for about three blocks until I finally gave in and had a drink with him.

The next morning he made me breakfast. As I was walking home I texted my cousin, “I think I met someone.” I pretty much new he was great right from the start.

I told this story to my soccer teammates. One of my teammates responded with this. “Tell your boyfriend to fuck off for me. By the way, I’m sorry to have to tell you this but just because he stalked you for 3 blocks at 2 in the morning while you were drunk doesn’t mean he loves you. I mean, if I were him the very next day I would have called you at least 50 times and hung up. So don’t fall for his psychologically unhinged romantic act because he doesn’t truly love you until you have to get a restraining order on him. Besides that though he sounds like a lovely guy” – Thanks Jon!

I am a lesbian at heart: homage to the Girouard siblings

I have known Jena Girouard for almost year now. Jena G, as I so affectionately call her, is one of the best people I know and I can’t imagine my life with out her. I have never laughed so hard around one person in my life, especially when she told me to get out of the car as we were driving 60 miles per hour on route 78.

I recently met Jena’s brother Mark. They are two peas in a pod and he is just as wonderful as she is. He looks and speaks just like Woody Harrelson and has a quick wit delivered with a southern drawl that will drive you to tears.

Here are a few conversations that have taken place between the Girouard siblings and me.

A phone conversation one spring day at work:
Me: Jena, I know why we (Jena-a Gemini, me-a Taurus) can be such great friends but never date.

Jena: V.A., please tell me, aside from the fact that we are not lesbians, why can we never date?

Me: Well we are both standing at a ledge about to step off, but we are at different ledges so that way we can talk each other off said ledges.

Jena: Yeah, because if we were dating we would be holding hands jumping off that ledge together, for sure.

My first meeting with Mark:
Mark: I new you were 60/40 lesbian! I could just tell.

Me: But I have a boyfriend

Mark: Nope 60/40.

Jena and I leaving a soccer game
Jena: I’m driving Darren’s lesbian car

Me: I’ve never heard anyone call a car “lesbian”. What kind of car is it?

Jena: A Subaru Outback.

Me: I love that car!!! That was my first car when I got my license. I miss it so much!

Jena: Yeah, exactly, that’s cause you’re a lesbian

Gotta love the Girouards. I have yet to meet the older sister, but apparently she loves lesbians so I’m excited to be inducted into the family.