Hey Blunder Woman

Me, Chloe Knaggs

In a Nutshell

(But not actually IN a nut shell

Because that would be weird.)

           I probably would have been a lesbian if it weren’t for the whole vagina thing. Not that I liked women sexually…although after a few gin & tonics everybody pretty much looked like my potential soul mate. No, it was more that I was sick and tired of the drama with men, or to be more exact, I was sick and tired of the drama with Matt M. Mmmmm for short. I mean, how could I love him for nearly two years and have nothing to show for it? What was I waiting for?

            He was too much work, and yet I kept working. I’d ask myself: Why were we just friends? Why hadn’t things progressed? (And by ‘progressed’ I mean, why weren’t dirty dancing horizontally…or vertically depending on the mood.) Why wasn’t he interested in me? Was I too fat? Was there no chemistry? Did he rub his tongue over his teeth because he was envisioning me naked, or did he have a popcorn kernel stuck in his teeth?

            See? Exhausting.

            Lesbianism seemed so much less stressful. You like me, I like you, let’s move in together. But, again, the vagina thing was a bit of an issue. Maybe if it were called a yum-yum instead…or a chocolate covered yum-yum would be even better…but it wasn’t. And try as I might, I wasn’t. I was just a regular thirty-two year old with the mind and heart of a twenty-something woman trying to get the love of my life to love me back. Sigh sigh sigh.

            I guess that’s my defense for my stupid, ridiculous actions that spring and summer.  I mean, I look back on it now and I can acknowledge I was out of my head. And I know that somehow my craziness transferred by osmosis to my best friend Megan and my already-crazy mom. But at the time, our actions (my actions) made so much sense.

            So. Yes. I did it all for love.

            You’ve got to cut me some slack for that. What girl hasn’t been a little whacko because of love? Sure, not as whacko to end up in a Northern Michigan County jail while your traveling companions are dressed like turtles and passed out in a giant station wagon, but those are just minor details. Everybody goes a little bit crazy sometimes. And sometimes they go really far crazy and end up on Mackinac Island surrounded by water, horses, and marathon runners.

            Or maybe it was just me.

            Again, I say it wasn’t entirely my fault. Really. I had a good reason, a sensible, sane reason. I did it all for Mmmmmm.

            What better excuse is there than that?