Admit your "Mary!" moments!

I've just got 2 things to say:

1. I hope you are for real, Miss OP'sha, but GUUUUURRRRRRL, you are probably not.

2. If you are for real, well, I hope you are not a bear, GUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRL!

I think I prefer the standard cunty R1 to whatever that was.

I loved that story, OP.

I'm a dude, I don't have "Mary" moments, but your story was pretty dope, man.

Thanks, guys. I was afraid I'd made it sound a little too much like Casey Kasem introducing a song.

[quote]Yearning for years and love lost.

This is Mary! And who hasn't had this Mary! moment?

I too have some regrets and glory days. Nice to see I'm not alone. Life is good now. Your story makes me appreciate the times before, and the times now even more.

I was at a very, very low point in my life, hated my job, hated my life, had no real friends that I could trust, every day was exactly the same as the day before, just a bleak landscape of futility. I was driving home from work and Sade's "By Your Side" song came on the radio and I just broke down crying, it was like some angel talking to me from another plane of existence, loving me unconditionally. The emotion of the moment was so strong that I felt a little better about myself and understood that this was not a permanent situation, my life was not a waste, and that things could get better.

This was almost 10 years ago but I remember that it was raining, hard, I remember the street I was on, I remember that day like yesterday (yes, I do)

I know, MARY!

I tear up at the end of Baby Boom, when the little girl says "Mama?" to Diane Keaton. Seen the movie 3 or 4 times (used to be on cable a lot) and it happens every single time.

[quote]I'm a dude, I don't have "Mary" moments

Wow, you must be such a stud.

Show any straight guy "Somewhere in Time" and I guarantee he'll be in tears by the end.

Don't feel bad, OP, a fucking Taylor Swift song makes me cry.

OP,

I think you're trying much to hard but, whatever. Get a blog.

R13, total misuse of that catchphrase. A funny GAY anecdote asking for more? How is that out of place on DL? You'd prefer homophobic, bigoted insults flying?

And R1's the one trying too hard.

I think the fantastic "Dialing the Telephone with a Pencil" thread would be two pages, all insulting the OP, these days.

OP - it is interesting that you mentioned that song because I had a conversation about last night with a friend. Basically, we couldn't figure out what the lyrics mean:

"Sometimes it lasts in love and sometimes it hurts instead"

What the heck does that even mean? Anyone care to make a guess?

My 'Mary' moments usually involve insects.

I wasn't "out" yet at age 19, and working a Christmas job at a small high end department store in 1979. It was my first experience with interaction between so many different ages and backgrounds of people. We would call each other floor to floor, department to department for gossip. I became fast friends with this sassy woman named Cindi, that worked in ladies shoes department on one. Cindi was on to my sexuality more than I knew, and was lots of fun to talk about the guys with. I was also friendly with a very sweet girl, named Jennifer, that worked in millinery, also on one. Jennifer was totally clueless to my possibility of being a homo, and in reflection, she had romanticized our relationship a bit.

One day, where I worked on five, the gift and home department, a breathtakingly beautiful man came in to shop. He was very"colt", lean waist, stubble, big blue eyes, rugged cowboy attire, boots, hat...you know...to a 19 year old budding homo...he was SO HOT! He was probably in his mid-twenties and was buying an expensive piece of Waterford as a gift. He also winked at me and said he'd like a box of Godiva. After he made his purchases he opened the chocolates and offered me a piece. My heart was beating like crazy, I took one and he winked again and thanked me for my assist. I stood there watching that hot ass in those Levis descend the escalator. I was numb, in awe and worked up.

I had to tell somebody about this, it was more than I could suppress, Cindi had to know! Nervous and nelly, I dialed to one, "the hottest cowboy was just up here and he winked at me twice, he's heading your way do you think he likes guys too"? silence, " Cindi"?..... "it's, Jennifer in millinery" ::::::MARY!:::::: Jennifer avoided me after that and Cindi took me to my first gay discotheque that weekend.

I got my first charlie horse when I was a child and fell to the ground. The Waltons had an episode about polio and I was convinced I had it. I remember hysterically telling my mother "I may never walk again!"

Laughing out loud at R17!

OP, I've recently had exactly that reaction to that song, for very similar reasons. My first boyfriend in high school (25 years ago, mind you), the one that got away, never fails to pop up in my thoughts now and again. He's happily partnered with someone much more suitable for him, as am I, but I still remember how he broke my heart when we were 18.

[quote]"Sometimes it lasts in love and sometimes it hurts instead" What the heck does that even mean? Anyone care to make a guess?

I've been assuming I'm misunderstanding the lyrics. Is that really what she's singing?

I also thought she was saying "Don't forget me. I'm mad!", which, no.

I was sharpening my pencil in 7th grade when Mr. Roscoe was trying to get the students to take their seats by taking a paddle the kids who were loitering. I thought I was safe because I was actually preparing for the class. When I was paddled I went ballistic. First I screamed and crumpled to the floor, inert. Then when I rose from the floor I said "How dare you strike me! I've never been whipped in my entire life. I'll have your license for this!" and I went stomping down to the office, which was less than sympathetic.

I also remember crying to the dentist when I had my first cavity "No! This can't be true!" I said and began reciting all the reasons why he must be mistaken and how unfair it was.

Talking to my ex-beard, err, GIRLfriend about Audrey Hepburn.

This isn't quite what you want, I expect...

But I would say the moment was careening around the curves of the Blue Ridge Parkway in a PT Cruiser convertible with the music of the German pop group Rosenstolz blaring full blast.

Just recently after watching "The Amazing Race" I was walking to meet a friend for lunch. As I walked I envisioned I and my gay husband running the race and coming to the finish line to be told that "409 countries, 11 continents, etc...." I got myself all teary-eyed imagining it. Just then I realized I was at the restaurant and there was my friend looking at me with tears running down my face asking me what was wrong.

I lied.

Finding out that an old male friend of mine from High School had become a woman.

My partner and I were miving to a new city. He went ahead of me to start his new job and I was going to stay behind to wrap things up and then follow a few months later.

I went out one night with some friends. We had a fabulous time. We met for dinner and drinks and then went to a club where we drank and danced and had a terrific time. When the night was over I started walking home. It was snowing and everything was white and lovely. It struck me then and there how much I missed my BF and that I was going home to an empty house. And that house would be empty for the next few months. I started to tear up. The tears turned to sobs. The sobs turned to full-on wailing and yelling, "I don't want to be alone!!! I don't want to be alone!!!"

Keep in mind that I was very drunk and very tired. It was 4:00 a.m. and the streets were empty. If anyone witnessed my hysterics they didn't mention it.

By the time I got home I had calmed down. But, jeez. MARY!!!

R18 reminds me of the time I thought I had Muscular Dystrophy. I had just started seventh grade and our gym teacher made us run around the track. I wasn't used to that much exercise after a lazy summer so my legs were very stiff. It was around the time of the Jerry Lewis telethon so I was sure that I too had muscular dystrophy.

OP, thanks for the posting. I actually bought that album and planned to email that song to my ex with a nice Christmas e-card.

After reading your post, I realized I had a Mary moment. My ex is a cheating ho. And I simply miss that dick rather than anything else.

Anyone here wants a free Adele CD?

I had a few last weekend. I was watching "A Summer Place" on TCM, one of my favorite campfests, and not only was I humming the theme, but I was also doing Connie Ford's dialogue as she spoke. Was also watching "Meet Me in St. Louis," and I burst out singing the Trolley song with Judy.

Well, there's this guy in my class that I sorta became close with. Anyhow I took my final yesterday, and I noticed that I finished before him, so I realize that's the last time I'm ever gonna see him since he's transferring to a different school. As I was leaving campus, I was listening to "Fix You" by Coldplay but it was the Glee Cast version, and when Matthew Morrison sang the line "..and the tears start streaming down your face" I got VERY emotional. Not just because I'm not gonna see that guy ever again, but because I hardly made any friends over the semester. I'm gonna come back a friendless virgin.

Oddly enough, one of my most recent Mary moments came when I discovered this "Someone Like You" song a few days ago. I hadn't really paid much attention to the Adele hooplah, but it played one night on my Pandora mix and I got hooked. I spent the next couple of days obsessing over the original version and several covers on YouTube. Then I developed a crush on this gap-toothed guy and his haunting version. As Ms. Flack would put it, he was "singing my life with his song." He put as much emotion into the song as most of the Marys on this thread...including me.

Oops! R31 again. ..."singing my life with his [bold]words[/bold]"!

I'll surrender my gay card now.

My favorite Mary thread involved those huge crablike spiders behind a wall clock...

I loved when one of the posters said...

"Well just pick up a book and smash the damn thing!"

I was around 7 years old, it was Halloween. An old grandmother was wandering up and down the street looking for a neighbor`s house while we were trick or treating. She was old and wrinkled, had a big nose and chin, maybe even a wart or two. I shook my head with scorn.

The next day I told the neighbor it was insensitive of her to allow her old grandmother to wander around like that on Halloween of all nights. Why, the little kids would think she`s a real witch and get scared!

THat's 'coz they all want to fuck their grannies R11.

I used to change all my flat tires myself but the last time, I just couldn't get the fucking hubcap off and had to call for help. The kid showed up and treated me like an old lady, "Well, ma'am (yes he did) we'll have that off in a jiffy. You just go sit in the car." I'm a 50 year old male.

I ain't, I ain't!

Straight guys are the biggest Marys of all. They cry over sports, for fuck's sake.

When she sings ‘sometimes it lasts in love and sometimes it hurts instead. She is saying sometimes love last, and other times it hurts. Fairly self explanatory.

Love R18's self-diagnosis. "I may never walk again!"

But love R17's story more. In retrospect, do you think the guy was flirting with you?

Oh yes, R39, Cindi and a department colleague let me know that the cowboy was back a couple days later looking for me. Alas, I was not there and I never saw him again.

Mary! What if!?

I have the exact same reaction as OP to that song and that line, even tho I'm not or was not in love with someone who is married now (tho I pretended to be to get my current love jealous and more into me).

I pine away sometimes over missed opportunities with dudes from my past when I was too closeted to come one to them. Some I've met years later admitted to me that they wondered why I didn't make the first move because they would have been into it! Damn. Also, I am still lusting after my first real High School romance with a beautiful Blond haired, blue eyed, Jew (Mother was second generation Swede...father was a good looking Jewish man). It's been many years since I've seen him; I still have the vision of his nude body in the moonlight at the lake as we both explored each other's body for the first time (We were both 15 y/o at the time).

MARY!

Real kaweens don't have them

When Anna Nicole Smith died, I stood up on the bed and screamed. My bf turned to me and said, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I was 52 when I had an asthma attack for the first time. I thought I was dying and sent farewell emails to my friends. One spray of albuterol and I was as good as new. Oops.

I'm not proud of this, but I burst into tears when I heard Laura Branigan died.

My cat decided to puke right near my laptop bag which was made from distressed leather. I stood about three feet from her watching her body contort and heave and heard that godawful UGH UGH UGH noise that cats do.

All I could do was say OH GOD OH GOD as I literally fluttered my hands at the wrist like two birds trying to escape the chimney in Mitch's house in Bodega Bay as my cat ejected everything she'd eating fifteen minutes before.

She missed the bag but got the base of the floor lamp.

A friend (Bob) of a friend (MARY!), who's an incredibly sensitive, animal rescuer way left-wing vegan was riding the bus home and listening to TLC's "Unpretty" and fucking SOBBING as he sat there.

Bob also told me of a time when he told MARY! that when Bob was a kid he'd go hunting with his dad.

After the story they both were occupied doing other things. Bob looks over and MARY!'s crying. When Bob asked him why he was crying MARY! told him he was crying over the deer Bob had shot lo those many years ago.

R45 wins!

[quote]I remember hysterically telling my mother "I may never walk again!"

That's so fuckin' funny!

I wept when I found out that Florence Henderson was still alive.

When I was a Catholic altar boy I insisted on taking the vestments I wore home because I didn't like the way Sister Gerlinda laundered them.

I insisted that my mother use bleach on my white surplice, and iron all the pleats, using extra starch to make it beautiful. And I had her redye my cassocks to get them blacker-than-black again.

Once she neglected the bleach and when she handed me the surplice on a hanger, I said, "I am NOT wearing that in front of Father."

And for funerals we got to wear silk and velvet cloaks to the cemetery in the limos, capes like Dracula wore. I brought mine home so I could get dressed up and pose in the mirror.

My siblings thought I was insane.

Like many lesbians, the song 'at seventeen' still makes me cry. I am in my early 40s now. Fucked up.

Well, I will add that this crap about Adele's fucking no-talent inane wobble-warble pussfest "Someone Like You" is enough to make me want to scream.

Who couldn't understand the lyrics? You must be "lyric impaired." Sometimes love lasts. You know, relationships LAST. Sometimes they don't and it HURTS. What part of that don't you understand? Good lord.

Mary Astorwatt Mary Blaterstock Mary-Anne Rumsfeld Mary Patricia McDonald Mary 'Butch' Kladboch Mary Di Domenico Maree Leverson Mary 'AJ' Honicker Mary Van Ness Mary 'Mad Dog' Mitchiner Mary Moonchild Adoree Mary Lee-Ann Shovelbottom Mary 'Diesel' Dodderson

I'm not sure this is Mary! If it's not, you bitches will let me know. But my moment occurred after I had been having sweaty sex in a gay bookstore. I was there late, and when my friend and I finished and exited our booth, the place seemed really quiet. No one seemed to be around. We walked up the hallway to the front of the business and peeked through a curtain that separated the booths from the retail store. It was dark and the place was closed. We walked through the curtain and an alarm went off. The phone immediately started ringing. I walked behind the counter to answer it. Why not? It was the owner, and he told me the police would be there soon. I was somewhat afraid that the police would try to harass us--you never know. We were lucky and they didn't. They did laugh at us, though, and joked that we had a story to tell, if we dared. We eventually were allowed to leave after the owner arrived and counted the money in the register. To this day I regret not helping myself to a bottle of poppers...I was just not thinking at the time.

Hearing that a very handsome, hot, sweet guy I had developed an insane crush on was being transferred. The thought that I'd never see him smile, hear him laugh again. Never see that face, sneak a peek at that butt. A crush that was as bad as any schoolgirl's.

Heard Weezer's "Islands On The Stream" (the "hep hep") song that night and lost it so bad I shocked myself. Regret, frustration, longing, unrequited love, desire...I ached for him, and he was leaving, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do.

Mega "Mary!", which I didn't care for one bit.

Years later, still hung up on the memory of him, all that I ever wanted. ..

Was a confused high school lesbian taken to a gay bar for the first time by a very sweet young gay guy. He and many of his friends died of HIV only a few years later. Their deaths were not discussed or addressed at all by so many people we knew in common.

When I dwell on their disappearance I have Mary moments. Usually at night or on unemployed rainy afternoons.

Sorry Chris, Jim, Mike, Matt and Mark. Even your names are different than the ones today. The world has moved on.

I grew up in an extremely religious family and a tight-knit church group. The closer I came to adulthood, the more I realized that I would never be accepted and I just needed to quit being the one making the effort. Left for college listening to Rascal Flatt's "I'm Moving On," crying my eyes out. The line, "...there comes a time in everyone's life, when all you can see are the years passing by, ..." really hit home with me and motivated me to leave. I was much younger, had NO ONE, and that song came along at just the right time.

I was walking and listening to my iPod and a song I hadn't heard in years, a happy song that reminded me of a friend, came on.

And I started crying. Uncontrollably. Shaking. People walked by and a few offered to help.

MARY!

Me too, r54.

My BF went through a bout of depression back in 2009. It was the first time and I really didn't know what was going on. I usually practice tough love with him since he is a bit of a drama queen and hypochondriac. Looking back, I was probably a little harder on him than I should have been.

Fast forward to 2011 and I had just lost my job. We are both aspiring screenwriters and I was sitting on the bed listening to Katy Perry's Teenage Dream. And the image in my mind of us just being free and driving PCH 1, top down, finely living our dream just overcame me and I started balling.

He walked in and saw me and asked what was wrong. I asked him if this is how he felt during his depression, and he said "yes." And I said, "I'm so sorry."

r1, I loved your post. There were many of us who were confused and conflicted in college. Relationships developed. We fell in love. Life intervened. We moved apart. But we have never forgotten.

From experience, I 'second' that it is strange to look up a first love to find out that he is married with children. ( Of course, there are guys who are bisexual...something that most of us seem to forget.) Guys with wives and kids are rarely interested in reconnecting with a part of their lives that they have tried to erase, which makes it all even more painful.

It really is true that "You never forget your first love."

[quote]And the image in my mind of us just being free and driving PCH 1, top down, finely living our dream just overcame me and I started balling.

Hard to imagine how you've failed to make it as a writer.

R66 Mary!

[quote] balling.

Or, perhaps, bawling.

I was fired from a Melanie Griffith film for commenting on her face

R46. You funny bitch, you made me laugh. I have asthma too.

R66, come sit by me.

More MARY! please

R59

[quote]Heard Weezer's "Islands On The Stream" (the "hep hep") song

I think you mean Island in the Sun.

I have my moments at least 2 or 3 times a year, sometimes more. In my vivid gay youth those moments were more like once or twice a week. Usually followed by sex.

Needless to say I have lost interest in sex altogether.

R74 here. Perhaps I do not understand what Mary! really means. I thought it meant unnecessary drama. Followed by sex, it can be actually interesting. It's just roleplay or emotion play if you will. Some people take up theatre, playing with your life brings a whole new range of sensations.

I want to marry R53.

I used to play Wonder Woman all the time. I would put a black t-shirt on my head and do it up in a bun, so when I spun I would get the hair falling down shtick perfectly. Then I would put on aluminum foil bullet proof bracelets and a foil tiara with magic markered red stars on them. To add to the effect, I put my little tape player up to the TV and taped the sound from the show. So when I did my spin from Diana into Wonder Woman, I would press play so the music and the thunder and lightning would play at the same time. One time my mother caught me and said, "what in the hell are you doing", I told her and she laughed, but then quietly said, "don't do that in front of your father."

This thread really is a "looking for love" personals

What exactly does Mary! mean?

R79, you ain't from around here, are you?

No. I'm not from America anyway.

When a very small child, I became very warn one day, and swanned around the house saying I was going to faint. The only response I got was an explanation that males do not "faint," they "pass out." So it was kind of a fail on all sides.

"warn" = "warm" as in, "it was summer"

Come on, what does "Mary!" mean? Is it just the kind of exclamation a really camp gay American bloke would make?

Yes, R84, except a camp gay bloke from a bygone time (before the 1970s). Nobody really calls other men "Mary" anymore, except ironically.

Why would someone call a man Mary?

I cried watching an episode of Drop Dead Diva.

Or is it a shorter version of "Jesus, Mary and Joseph!"?

Any movie that involves an animal suffering, I can't handle it. "Benji's Theme (I Feel Love)" makes me weepy.

[quote]Why would someone call a man Mary?

To point out that he's exhibiting stereotypically feminine behavior. When someone became too melodramatic, saying "Oh, Mary!" was a jocular way to tell him he needs to calm down/man up.

Well, when I was a teen I went shopping with my aunt to the mall and at the make-up counter she tried some eye-shadow and I said: Oh no that shade is too iridescent for you! She looked at me kinda funny...

This thread has really made me laugh. Thanks guys.

[quote]All I could do was say OH GOD OH GOD as I literally fluttered my hands at the wrist like two birds trying to escape the chimney in Mitch's house in Bodega Bay as my cat ejected everything she'd eating fifteen minutes before.

This paragraph mustn't go unacknowledged.

I opened my mouth this morning, and a purse fell out.

I allowed myself to get a bit teary this morning when I realized today is Lauren Bacall's 89th birthday.

And quite possibly her last.

I had to leave the theatre before the end of Marley & Me, and I sat in the lobby trying to keep from crying until the movie ended. The worst part was that my BF and I were sitting in the middle of the theatre, and I had to slide past about twenty people on my way out. I was saying to everyone, "I'm so sorry, I just can't watch this anymore".

And yes, I know we were both Marys for even going to that melodramatic rom com in the first place (we went for the dog).

[quote] Perhaps I do not understand what Mary! really means. I thought it meant unnecessary drama.

Close.

It's over the top drama, unnecessary drama....it's both a poke of fun and a subtle sign of respect.

I cry (secretly) every time I hear that triumphal background music on a Jos. A. Banks commercial. It makes me feel so proud and noble and manly! Dee-dee-DEE-DEE-DUMB.

Today.

If Only You Knew by Patti LaBelle came on the radio on my way back from picking up lunch.

My last boyfriend (6+ years ago) told me that he didn't believe or feel like I loved him. I thought I was showing him in everything I did for him (cooking, cleaning, late night booty calls, having his favorite beverages of choice in my house in case he decided to drop by unannounced, massages, sex) and of course, telling him I loved him.

I can't seem to get through the first chorus without the tears flowing.

I have songs, artists and entire genres of music I can't listen to anymore because they remind me of an ex.

Years ago I was dating this guy and the two of us loved to get high and watch Larry King Live, only because King was so bad at what he did we and thought it was funny. One time he had Liza on, and she was her usual train wreck. I should at this point mention that me nor the guy I was dating are really all into that "gay diva icon" worship shit. But maybe because were were high, we thought it was funny how so often, Liza would begin a sentence with the words, "Mamma used to say..." or "Mamma used to tell me....". The more she said it, the more we laughed, especially at the idea that some old booze hound was also supposed to be a font of wisdom. Eventually it go to the point where we started imitating her, putting on what we thought was her voice and saying things like, "Mamma used to say, you wash Seconals down with a gin and tonic" or "Mamma always told me, if you need a cheap abortion, go to Mexico."

I didn't go out one halloween because my parents insisted I wear a coat over my Casper costume.

When I demanded the escort to address me as barbra

I love you, -102-

[quote]Show any straight guy "Somewhere in Time" and I guarantee he'll be in tears by the end.

Psst...c'mon over here! I got somethin' I wants to shows ya!

Oh, yeah, the straight guys are just lining up for a chance to watch that movie with us both.

I cried when Princess Diana died. I was a 16-year old boy, tears streaming down my face as I ran along the busiest street in town.

Picture it. New York City. Summer. 2010.

Visiting pals, I got to town a day early. To be wistful a bit and enjoy the city on my own. I was excited and alive. Museums, shopping, flirting with men.

I kicked up my Grindr at lunch and soon found myself on the 40th floor of a smart pied a terre where the fit host offered me coke. I declined. He proceeded to do a lot of it and our encounter went nowhere, I remember looking out his living wall of windows and seeing the sun shimmer on the river and the Staten Island ferry floating by.

After a day of being surrounded by heat and the city energy and trying to shake off the grossness of the almost encounter, I got myself a house seat to "A Little Night Music" with Bernadette Peters. She was IN the thing -- we didn't go to the show together.

Fifth row center.

She starts "Send In The Clowns" -- a song I was familiar with but never really listened to. And I wept. Wept. Uncontrollably. For all the opportunities I had missed. For always playing the sidekick, for never taking the lead in the things that had happened to me. I'm not sure I've ever felt lonelier.

Great show, mediocre production, completely thrilling performance by Peters -- rivaled only by the one I found myself giving.

Mary.

OP, I loved your story and I know what you mean, why is it always the ones who broke our heart stays in our memories forever?

Adele is surely making song for all the heart-broken souls, "Best for the Last" was my choice of drug when a good cry was needed.

Great story R107.

Every time I log on to this site

That's Prime Quality Mary'in, OP.

R107--A "'pied a terre" in lower Manhattan? I don't think so. BTW--"pied a terre" refers to an apartment, not a building.

A 40-story pied-a-terre? Nous pensons que non.

At the ripe age of 30, I have Mary moments when youtubing Judy Garland live performances... It's just fascinating, sad and brilliant, all at the same time.

She really was a force of nature

During the spring of my sophomore year in college, I started smoking pot for the first time. I enjoyed it. I had a friend of a friend who was known for rolling perfectly massive joints. We're talking beautiful creations using 10+ rolling papers.

Well, I was over at my friend's apartment and the master joint roller came over while we were watching the Daily Show. He rolled one of his trademarked big ass Js and we all smoked it.

Then I got really quiet for about half an hour, but in my head I was FREAKING out. I had never been so high in my life, and it was NOT hitting me well. My heart was beating incredibly fast. I thought it was going to beat right out of my chest. Add to this the fact that I was taking a class on Edgar Allan Poe that semester and was CONVINCED my heart would jump right out out of me and start hoping across the floor in a Poe-ish manner.

After about a half an hour of inner turmoil (while appearing very quite and calm on the outside), I stood up and said very calmly, "I have to go to the hospital." All my friends looked at me as if I were making a joke. After all, I had just been sitting calmly and watching The Colbert Report when this announcement came.

Then I said very loudly and panicky but with no equivocation: "I have to go to the hospital NOW! I am having a heart attack and I need to go NOW!"

Mind you, I really thought I was dying.

My friends being the good friends they are went into high gear and called a cab. When we got into the cab, the cabbie was in a good party mood and cranking a T-Pain song. He took one look at me and turned off the radio and high-tailed it to the ER.

In the ER, I made sure to tell every nurse and doctor that I had smoked weed because "I didn't want to die and so they should know everything."

My heart was fine. It was my first (and thus far only) panic attack. I stopped smoking the rest of that semester, and have never smoked a monster joint ever again. I have to think reading so much Poe had something to do with it too.

I was a very young gay guy dating a slightly older, very successful guy who rented a house in the Pines over Christmas. I had to rent the ferry (a pretty big boat) by myself. I remember it was about $50, none of which I really had to spend. Since I was the only one on the large boat besides the captain, I decided to go to the very rear of the ship and then, just because I could, I belted out "Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter…" No one could hear me and who was I to pass up this opportunity!

Loved this story. As much as data loungers are snarky, we all have gone through this. It has been 20 years since my first bf, i love my partner completely, but I still wonder about him. Guess it was the whole "first" thing. I remember driving the massachusetts turnpike boo-hooing after breaking up and singing to natalie merchant. Looking back it was funny. I guess.

A couple of weeks ago when I was walking around the snow-covered forest I re-enacted the entire "Journey to the Past" scene from Anastasia. I even forced my poor dog to play the role of Anstasia's dog.

One day I'm totally gonna get caught doing these musical numbers in the nature.

Great story R116.

MARY!

I lied to everyone about having three months to live.

That's a Rhoda moment not a Mary moment.

PHYLLIS!

I was with a straight friend when I saw the news about Jan Hooks on the Internet. I gasped very dramatically. It was such a spontaneous response from me, but not one I would have ever consciously done in front of him.

Also. I had a straight roommate who I was head over heels about. I pined for him. He moved out to move in with his girlfriend.

I remember watching Judy Garland's "The Man That Got Away" on Youtube and gently sobbing, despite myself.

[quote] I gasped very dramatically.

The gay gasp!

*****MARY!!!!******

God I love this thread.

I screamed when a mouse ran up the partition wall of my cube. Later in a meeting someone said "Maintenance has to do something about these mice, one of the ladies screamed again today". The old lady from the cube next to me just smiled and winked at me. I will hate it when she retires.

I watch the Saturday morning show "Lucky Dog" with the very cute Brandon McMillan and I always cry at the end when the doggie learns good behavior and gets placed in his forever home.

MARY!

Sounds like your cubicle is inside a dumpster, r127. You have my sympathies. The old lady seems cool, though.

A mouse ran into my room. I jumped up on a chair like you see in cartoons and shrieked, "A mouse! A mouse!". Also I had to get a couple of stitches and the doctor used local anesthesia. I moaned for general anesthesia: "Mama! I need to faint! Please make me faint!"

I don't remember if I was still in high school or had recently graduated. Gay friend from down the street and another from a few blocks over come over one night to hang out. I don't remember if it was just real foggy or lightly snowing but we decide to walk around the block. The last halfway we decide to join hands and SKIP down the middle of the street singing "We're Off To See The Wizard".

One of my dearest friends calls me Mary and I call him Rhoda. In every other friendship, I would be the Rhoda. Our lives had ups and downs over the past few years, and we went from being inseparable (living and working together) to not seeing each other for months (we were both dealing with STUFFFFF). We finally saw each other again after months of being apart, on St. Patrick's Day, and we were both downtown in a sea of drunks trying to coordinate where to meet. Finally I hear a loud "MARY!!!" and I ran into his arms and he damn near broke my back. I would lie and say we were right by the Mary Tyler Moore statue to make it a better story, but I think it was two blocks away.

All of you, with the exception of r60, need to go run some character building laps in a snowstorm to put some starch in your spines.

What are patch notes?

How do threads like this resurface after 18 months?

Well, I laughed aloud at many of these entries, even the ones from 2011. I like it when funny stuff gets sifted up to the top again. Cheers, Darlings!