My Rockstar: My much-older (or “fuckin’ old”- to quote him) boyfriend, so named the Rockstar because he is the only person I know in real life who can play guitar, and looks hot doing so. Harbors a secret desire to actually BE a rockstar. When he is shirt-less, his long red hair and pale alabaster skin make him resemble an angel in a Michaelangelo painting. I believe his face comes complete with a “Roman nose”, though I’m not entirely certain what that means. I have issued a non-proposal to him which he has not deemed necessary to answer.
The Babe: The result of copious amounts of Rockstar humping. Not entirely planned, but excessively loved. My son, who will have to invest in thousands of dollars of therapy after having me for a mother.
The Daughter: The
9 10 11 year old I find myself living with who is determined to turn me into an Evil Step-Mother. A little being who has as much sass in her attitude as I do. She happens to be my Rockstar’s daughter. Her favorite thing to announce (which she has been forbidden to say) is, “Everything was better BEFORE you were here. Why don’t you go live somewhere else?!”
Delightfulness: My One Friend, because who has time for more than one? One of those women that are so tiny you just want to stick her in your back pocket. She is one of the good results that have come from my blog, as we discovered each other when she read how witty and amazing I am (or so she says) and realized we live in the same town. Sadly, because of our opposite work schedules, most of our relationship happens over text.
Catwoman: So named, not because she wears a skintight leather dominatrix outfit and steals jewelry, but because she is of her own free will one of those “crazy cat ladies”. A former coworker turned friend issued from the great city of Detroit (Holla!) who is about as motivated to finish her thesis as I am to finish my book. We enjoy eating excessive amounts of food.
Stevie Monroe: My darling puppy: half English Mastiff, half Newfoundland. In other words- one big fuckin’ dog.
The Book: The creation of my imagination which has become a thorn in my side. A book I began writing many years ago that is completely written in my head, yet refuses to give me enough energy to actually type the damn thing out. It will surely be a best-seller if I ever actually finish it.
The Boss: My imbecile of a manager who was beget his job because his brother-in-law didn’t want to see his niece and nephews starve. My Boss suffers from low self-esteem, no friends, horniness, and a wife who doesn’t care, which causes him to wonder why the girl at the Piercing Pagoda won’t look at him when he lusts after her. The Bookstore: My place of employment. A used bookstore located in a mall, which is the paradise or the bane of my existence. (Depending on the day.) A constant source of blog material due to the freakish and fantastical characters that frequent it.
Kozzi Gunka: My imaginary friend from childhood. He is of indeterminate age and suffers from extreme jealousy whenever I am in a relationship. He hasn’t spoken to me in years, but he shows up every once in awhile.