It’s a running joke in my family.
“Remember that time you dated that guy who thought he was the cause of a Tsunami?” My sisters both let out a gutsy giggle as I roll my eyes and auto respond “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” It’s all fun and games until we open up what I like to call The Ex Files, a portfolio of my most disastrous and bizarre suitors, sorted alphabetically.
There’s Adam (Narcissistic Personality Disorder), Blake (Used 2 names his Numerologist gave him) and Callum (Teetotaler who stole my wineglasses and my two cats). The list goes on all the way down to R for Rowan, the dillyest of them all.
I met Rowan at a cocktail bar and was intrigued by his wit and quirky sense of humour. He bought me a drink and then said with complete confidence and ingenuity: “Hey, you know that Tsunami that happened in
feel really bad about this but… you should know. It’s my fault.” Now I know
this is the point where one of those all too familiar little red flags should
have popped up right in front of me and suggested an alternative route.
Instead, I found myself enticed by his off beat charisma and laughed
flirtatiously as we spent the night knee to knee at the bar. Thailand
It was about a week after meeting Rowan that I started getting the sense that his quirky jokes were in fact real grandiose paranoid delusions. Somewhere between telling me he was being watched and controlled through electronic devices and delivering the extremely premature “I love you” I started getting the heebie jeebies. I eventually confronted Rowan who casually responded: “I’m not all there; they think it could be drug induced schizophrenia”. Not exactly what you want to hear 1 week into a new relationship.
When Rowan met my boss and remarked at how uncanny the resemblance was between him and The King of Darkness I knew I had to exit Crazytown. Immediately. I called a drug hotline and got advice from one of the councilors on how to end things with this unstable, probably harmless but potentially dangerous fellow. And then I had a good look in the mirror, noticing how my white wrap around summer dress had started to resemble a straight jacket. I couldn’t help but think… Have I lost the plot? Am I two sandwiches short of a picnic?
And then I realized that in a world where pick up lines like “Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven.” are more nauseating than tax returns, bad sushi or Friday afternoon traffic, what’s a girl to do? The truth is I’d take a bucket of madness over a smidgen of normal and maybe that makes me an inpatient at the institution of incredibly bad decisions. Or maybe I’m just a curious calamity that believes that love – deliciously deranged at its best - should be somewhat extraordinary. Taking the chance to find someone weirdly wonderful to embark on that adventure makes perfect sense to me.
So in celebration of all things cray cray, here's a cute little recipe I found on http://www.miss-charming.com from Miss Charmings book of Crazy Cocktails.
Lady Godiva’s Nude Martini
• Ounce the Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur
• Ounce the Vanilla flavored Vodka
• Double Ounce the cream
Do you think your taxes are too high, but don’t think that you can pull off a naked ride through your town on a barebacked white horse in protest? Then this is the drink for you! Grab that shaker tin of ice and pour in the Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur, Vanilla Flavored Vodka, and cream then ride that shaker hard. Strain it into a martini glass then say giddy-up horsey.