What was Ronnie D doing ten years ago today -- the day after Christmas -- in the year of our lord, 2007?
Well, it's a December 26th Miracle! Because I just came across a notebook entry regarding this exact thing:
So at this time, I’ve been off my pills for 13 days and on a balanced diet of NyQuil and vodka, and I’m driving to Blythe in the middle of the night to meet some guy I met on the internet.
This picture was not from the actual notebook entry. This is obviously a reenactment in the garish light of day.
Um, not to like "your-elder" you, but don't even talk to me about swiping left or right, kids.
In my day, we had to drive to middle-of-nowhere-destinations to rendezvous with people we thought we might have a soul connection with. We put in work. It wasn't like your current, lazy internet dating days where you just uber dick or pussy to your door. Like, oooh, we're perfect together; we both like graffiti.
In my day, it was like oooh, yeah, we're both pretty fucked up, but we vibe, man. And your mutual friends were like, "Hey, you two are gonna stab each other. You know that, right?" And you were like, "That's fucking stupid. You don't even know us at all. We would never stab each other . . . . Sure, his ex-now-and-again-kinda-current-girlfriend might stab me. But that's a whole different story."
Long gone are the days of the romantics.
We took heartfelt chances!
We lived with abandon!
We were lucky . . .
We didn't pick a sociopath that time.
Or, did we?
*Law and Order sound*
(Click below for the sound if you do not feel confident enough in yourself to recreate it in your head for the correct effect. I believe in you, but unless YOU believe in YOU, my belief means nothing. This is basic Karate-Kid / Mr. Miyagi shit. The New Year is coming; it's time to envision your bonsai.)
In Case You Were Wondering . . .
Sometimes Ronnie D writes funny stuff. Sometimes she writes desperate teenage prose. Most times she just slams her feeble, little woman-hand onto the keyboard in an attempt to feel something, anything.