So this weekend, Kentucky and his roomate, W, took me ice skating. In case it’s not common knowledge, ice skates don’t come with four wheels and a stopper. They come with one blade and a toe pick…in which case Nikol doesn’t know how to stop. I must say, for only gliding on the ice one other time in my life, I did pretty well…except I did fall…twice. And one of the times I whacked my head on the ice pretty hard…and now I have a concussion. So the rest of the weekend that I spent in KY, I spent with my head spinning and trying to prevent myself from puking all over myself. This was difficult…let me tell you why. Have you ever been in a situation where you just feel like you want to die but you don’t want to complain or be a party pooper so you do your best to be in a good mood even though you really just want to die? And you want to die? And be dead?

I tried to keep smiling and be the sweet, fun girl that Kentucky likes me to be…but I don’t know if I was successful. This is why…

Kentucky never eats. He eats like once a day, and then for the next 15 hours, I am starving because he never eats. Nikol must eat every 3-4 hours…MUST…even if it’s a package of crackers…or she will shut down. First my communication skills go, and I zone out…then my physical energy wanes and I become a limp wet noodle, then my personality goes to shit and I lash out at the first person who breathes on me. So, after my brain began to swell in my head, I was very dizzy…and very nauseated…and then…I was very hungry. Let me illustrate a little time table for you…

8am–Nikol wakes up.
11am–Nikol drives to McDonalds for food
12pm–Kentucky wakes up
3pm–go to bar…eat 1/2 bowl of chili and a beer
3:30pm–go ice skating and attempt to crack head open
9:30pm–go to dinner (6.5 hours after I ate 5 spoonfuls of chili!!!)

Now…as we pull up to the restaurant, KY can’t find a parking spot…so he drives around the building 3 times because he doesn’t want to have to walk. Did I mention that on top of my blood sugar levels plummeting and my brain expanding, and my head pounding…I also get car sick? My friends…I really tried to keep my mouth shut…but I beg you to understand that I was being tortured. If you ever have a grudge against me and you want me to die a cruel and painful death…don’t feed me and then drive in circles for 15 minutes after you’ve hit me over the head with a baseball bat. I assure you I will be miserable.

Dear Kentucky,

I want to be the sweet, fun loving girl that you’ve always dreamed of. Please feed me.