Not So Dangerous

While most normal people are quick to blame their mistakes and appalling behavior on an Evil Twin, I long ago accepted that this was not an option for me. This is mainly because if I had a twin, I would invariably be the bad one. I've had a colorful past (some of which I illustrated for you at this time last year). When I sat down to compile a similar entry to conclude 2008 though, I wracked my brain and found the pickings to be much slimmer. Sure, I climbed out a window at a party last weekend, and yes, granted, I fell out of a chair later that same evening, but overall, there are fewer wild stories to choose from. Now, I'm more likely to curl up in my pajamas with a book on a Wednesday night than be chased out of a parking lot by the cops for public urination. Could it be? Have I… matured?

At the very least, my Good Twin has been rearing her un-hungover pretty little head with greater frequency. Beau has already taken the liberty of naming her "Cautious K" and shames me with the moniker every time I cross-stitch or turn down a fifth rumndietcoke or drive with my hands at 10 and 2 or gently suggest he maintain a speed of 35 mph. Maybe it was the four months of penny-pinching unemployment, maybe it was the increasingly nasty hangovers. Whatever the cause, the damage is irreparable. We're facing a kinder, gentler Dangerous K. One who drinks decaffeinated tea, has a gym membership and soon, a mortgage. One who gets tipsy off a bottle of wine and serenades her DD with an a capella rendition of Elton John's greatest hits. For that matter, one with hobbies other than drinking.

Did those past two paragraphs lose me my entire readership (who I assume is bent on hearing stories about me skin my knees outside a bar in Fenway)? I don't mean to suggest in any way, shape, or form that I have become an overnight teetotaler. On the contrary, I fully expect a number of shenanigans in the future, but I have to admit that the past year has been the tamest I've seen since 2001. It's time to pass the torch onto the younger pups like Mistress who tossed her cookies in a diner bathroom and then cheerfully rejoined the breakfast table last weekend. Ah, the good ol' days may have passed, but there are some things I just won't miss.