As I’ve mentioned, I started to really make friends in high school because everyone fits in somewhere. I mostly nerded out with the music department, but I also found a home with the ‘goth’ kids. Not emo, but goth – dark clothes, wallet chains, skulls, angry music, platform leather boots, and pants with legs you could fit two of your friends in. Because of my depression, I’ve always identified with the more macabre things in life and really found comfort in that crowd.
I often sat with the goth kids at lunch, usually with my best friend. For no apparent reason one day during our junior year, she told our friend Heidi that she should kiss me. I’d never kissed a girl before, but the idea didn’t actually sound terrible to me. Heidi had long, blonde hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, big tits, and a smile that warmed your soul. She’s absolutely gorgeous, so I didn’t exactly protest.
I got picked on a lot in my formative years for one thing or another, simply because children are ruthless. I was a good kid, I didn’t hurt anyone, and my heart was and still is enormous. But kids don’t see that, they see whatever they imagine. So I made friends in different cliques and tried to stay under the radar. In seventh grade boys weren’t terribly interested in girls yet – and only the popular ones if they were – so I had very platonic interactions with them, if that.
One in particular seemed to enjoy harassing me, especially if he was in front of other people. He really was just that piece of shit, asshole kid who isn’t popular but acts like a dick to be noticed. He never had anything nice to say to me, so I pretty much avoided him.
My husband and I like getting together with our friends occasionally for ‘game night’ – ie: drinking and perverse commentary while playing some form of inappropriate card or board game. Our best friends just had their second baby in two years a few months ago so it has been challenging to see each other, but we finally were able to recently and checked out a new game.
What could possibly be better than dildos, scissoring, big dicks, and alcohol? Nothing. That’s why Porn: The Game! was created.
Apparently I’m the kind of person who lives ‘on the edge.’ My mother has always been very shy and would rather die than be the last person to walk late into a room full of people, so she’s never understood my ‘bravery.’ And I say ‘brave’ in quotes because it can often be interchanged for ‘stupid,’ ‘risky,’ or ‘harebrained.’
I keep having more and more epiphanies in the past couple years due to the incredible mind-expansion that weed is known for, and one of the epiphanies has been realizing what it is that leads me to taking more chances than the standard human being. I think when you have depression, you don’t always value your life as highly as others may value theirs. This seems to have manifested itself over the years in a way that makes me incredibly comfortable taking chances by trying new and terrifying things, meeting up with strangers from the Internet, or traveling to faraway destinations alone. Depression gives you that mindset where you don’t always look twice to see if a bus is coming before crossing the street, so I’ve always sort of lived this way. Or I’ve simply just been bestowed with the reckless bug. Either way, I now have an endless supply of awesome stories about the crazy shit that I’ve encountered. One of my favorite stories takes place in my parents’ house with the Comcast Guy.