oh god so i totally forgot to mention my failed marriage in that last entry. and it was such a big deal to me too. getting married. dewy eyed bride and all that. oh man. jilted at the alter i tell you. jilted, yo.

the thing is see, jason and i decided to get married. and i was like, yes finally! he is taking me seriously and i’m going to be supported to the end of my days and we’ll be so soooo happy together and have dozens of little jasons with the curly mop of hair running around the floor. and we had it all planned out and he got me one those ringpop rings for an engagement ring and i ate it (which i guess should have told me straight off that our marriage would never last.) and then on saturday, the day of out fated marriage. there i was walking down the runway towards a gleaming white elvis in that sparkly spandex costume. (he did the little jutting dance and everything) i was excitemed over everything, the swelling music of blue suede shoes, the cobwebbed wedding deocrations hanging from the ceiling, the plastic wine glasses set out to hold the celebratory champagne, my bridesmaids marina and kim and this chick we picked up off the street who was actually shooting up at my wedding, and a HUGE EMPTY SPACE WHERE MY HUSBAND TO BE SHOULD HAVE BEEN. he had blown the coop, up and vanished, got the hell out of dodge, and blew my heart up for a popsicle stand. i was heart-broken. jilted at the alter. me. fer fuck’s sake.

later he tried to give me some lame ass excuse about how he was worried our taxes would be affected. and i was like, “jason. man. we were going to get divorced tomorrow anyway. it wouldn’t have affected shit. except all of my future happiness in this world. where i could say with pride, ‘yes, that’s my ex.'” hmmm perhaps i should really be happy that my first wedding was such a disaster. i mean…did i REALLY want to marry jason? other than humor value, our one-day wedded bliss really had nothing going for it. well whatever. hopefully my next experience with the alter will be a better one. one where the groom actually shows. and there’s no skid-marked skank, or elvis, or…..gay grooms.

kisses exxie. kisses.