It's been a while. For lots of things. In this instance, posting.

I know, you all missed me so much that you could barely contain yourselves. Calm down. And possibly marry me. I spent the past week and a half or so looking for a husband. So far, no dice. But I did manage to get so drunk that I sobbed in the middle of my kitchen floor naked at 2 am because nobody will ever love me. 

So, flowers.

I'm thinking lilies would be nice. Perhaps some gardenias.

Maybe I'll throw some fruit in there to shake it up. Be one of those "outside the box"-ers.

Ha. Boxers.

And now for story time. 

I was standing in line with this one guy in Walmart Saturday trying to drop hints, when I noticed a women's magazine with an article teaser on the front entitled "4 ways to drop hints that you want him to pop the question." *I'm breaking character for a moment here to let you all know that these are actually prescribed tips from real women's magazines that I picked up off the Internet. I left their names out of it so I wouldn't get the shit sued out of me, and they wouldn't get the shit humiliated out of them. Prepare yourselves. It's about to get dumb up in here.I mean, after reading these, I didn't know whether to laugh or throw up in my mouth a little. So I did both.*

So after reading this advice (and getting stuck in line behind an old lady arguing with the only cashier on duty about expired coupons), I snuck what's-his-name's cellphone out of his man-purse, called his mother, and suggested she have a talk with him about settling down. (tip number one: call his mother, and inform her that her son is having commitment issues. She'll be able to talk some sense into him!  ...keep in mind, these are actual tips, that are, for the most part, about as likely to get you sent to the hospital as about 90 percent of Cosmo's sex tips.)

Anyway, she had absolutely no idea what I was talking about and threatened to call the police. But...she seemed pretty nice. So win-ster on that one.

I then quickly jotted down my engagement ring desires on a dirty napkin I found in my purse, and tucked it right into the front pocket of his handy-dandy "European shoulder bag" (after taking the advice of the magazine of course, and making it look like I wrote the desires in a letter to a friend.)

[tip number 2: jot down your wedding ring desires in a letter to a friend, and "accidentally" leave it someplace where he can find it.]

THE LETTER:

Dearest Felicia-

I want a 10 thousand dollar engagement ring. And if this guy in front of me in line at Walmart doesn't give it to me, I will hold his cat hostage, lock it in my closet, and feed it crushed potato chips under the door.

-H

That didn't seem like it was enough, though. Luckily, I had stolen his number out of his discreetly taken-and-replaced cell phone. So I pretended to "accidentally" send a text to him that was supposed to go to a friend.

[tip number 3: you know all those texts you send to your bestie about wanting him to "put a ring on it?" "Accidentally" send that text to him next time. Don't let go. Throw every crazy desire in there!]

THE TEXT:

Felicia-

I really want to be engaged right now. If this Walmart guy doesn't get engaged to me right this instant, I will hold his cat hostage, lock it in my closet, and feed it crushed potato chips under the door.

-H  <3

[I added the testicles symbol for good measure. Men love their testicles. That's psychology.]

I heard his phone go off a few seconds later. He read the text, and started to make a face. "This is it!", I thought.

He tapped a few characters in after a small period of deep consideration. My phone vibrated. The message?

"I don't know who you are. My name isn't Felicia. If  you're serious about the cat thing, that guy probably isn't going to marry you because you're nucking futs. Seek professional help."

I was a little peeved at the unsolicited advice, but I had a back-up plan. It was the ever mysterious...

TIP NUMBER 4:

I took a deep breath, tapped him on his shoulder, and shouted

"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO LIVE FOREVER, YOU KNOW!"

He looked a little bewildered.
..."excuse me? can I ...can I help you?"

Tip 4: Remind him that he could die tomorrow. Literally terrify him into marrying you.

"I know we're both young and it seems like we have forever, but for all you know, you could be hit by a bus tomorrow. Love like ours doesn't happen every day! We have to grab this relationship by its testicles and hold on for dear life!" said I, each breath of passionate poetry dripping from my lips. 

He scratched his head.

"Look lady, you must have me confused for someone else. I'm gay"

"LOVE CONQUERS ALL!" I cried.

"Ask her to marry you already so she'll shut the hell up," the woman behind me snapped. 

"But-but-I-I don't even-I" he stammered.

I began to sob, flung my basket at him, and ran off flailing my arms.

I was so emotionally scarred that I ended up running out of the "in" door. I feel as if that could be a metaphor for my life. Anyhow, another failed relationship. Back to square one, I guess.