Kismet: That which is inevitably destined.
I believe in it, that thing called kismet; fate; destiny. And yet again, this QTMama is proved correct in her beliefs. Now that the plan for my next trip to Vegas is set in stone, I sent a frantic text message to Sha-Na-Na, insisting that she go shopping with me. She is the best person in the world to shop with, in my humble opinion. She IS that girl who tells me that my butt looks big in a pair of jeans, she IS that girl that yells at me when I’m wearing the wrong bra or underwear, she IS that girl that looks at what you tried on, really looks, to see if there are ANY possible fat area’s; she IS my favorite personal shopper. Some texting back and forth reveals that not only are we going shopping, but low and behold her and her DH are heading to Vegas the same week! I will be in Vegas the same time as Shan? Well, look out Vegas, here we come. To boot, she gets to meet my Irishman.
Tuesday Emilee was with her daddy, so I decided to head out to play some poker. Let me preface this by saying I think my liver fell out in Vegas. To test the theory, I had a few beers at poker. A few more … HEY my liver is still in tact. Not very happy with me, but still there nonetheless. Once my liver and I were on happy ground again, I decided that sending a text message to the Irishman was a grand idea. GRAND. Two hours and many poker hands later, we are still texting. He promised to sing 500 Miles for me, I promised to watch him sing it.
To complicate matters further, PokerMan was at poker. He is somewhat intent on things getting more serious with he and I. I am somewhat intent on not having that conversation with him. I avoided the topic successfully all evening, then when the time came, ran out of there like my butt was on fire. Tried to text Random Esquire and realized I was texting someone else instead. Oh the horror. It seems as if now I have a random esquire who is not MY Random Esquire interested in texting me as well. Drunk texting is a dangerous thing. Beware.
This morning Emilee asked me what breasts are. I told her it’s another word for boobs. She shook her head and informed ME that they are not breasts nor boobs. They are knockers. *sigh*
May 8, 2008 at 1:57 pm
lol….that’s ok…for a long time my son would go around informing people that they were ‘fluffy pillows’!
May 8, 2008 at 2:05 pm
*laugh* No way! I missed drunk texting?!
I’m sort of tempted to send you the wrong number just so you keep meeting people this way.
I’ll e-mail you, beautiful.
-R.
May 8, 2008 at 2:07 pm
[...] dedicated a song to me. Dearest QT, when I think about me, I touch myself, too. (QTmama also sent drunk text messages to me last night…except she used the wrong number and now has a text pen pal who is very [...]
May 8, 2008 at 4:05 pm
hahaha, Where do kids hear this stuff?
May 9, 2008 at 4:03 am
1. I can’t believe you play poker too?!! I have got to find a local poker table again. Quit when I got pregnant – been way too long.
2. I can’t believe you’re going to see the IrishMan again – SO exciting
3. I accidentally texted my ex the other weekend!
I think we’re soul mates.
October 27, 2008 at 3:42 pm
[...] and the next day, we had hangovers. And because it always seems like a good idea to call and/or text people when drinking … at almost 2am that evening, I sent my Chicago Man a texting asking if he could call when he [...]