Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Excuse me miss, I'm the shit
Let me give a peek into my seemingly glamorous life, but is really, not so much at all.
I was upset last night, for reasons that I will not divulge because I have a new personal rule of no more wallowing and feeling sorry for myself. I'm good enough, dammit! So, after work, I went to Barnes and Noble where I drowned my sorrows in a chai latte and a lemon raspberry square which was delicious. I, then, picked up another Chuck Palahniuk novel, having finished Choke and loved it and am now obsessed, with dear, sweet, psychotic Chuck.
Then, I went home, because I remembered that I had recently rented Half Nelson and have to actually watch it and return it before my status at Blockbuster matches my status at the The New York Public Library, where I am no longer welcome because I have lost about 6 books. Because I am an idiot.
My darling friend and roommate, Shannon, was home when I got there, so I suggested we watch Half Nelson together, since I knew that she had been wanting to watch it. The clincher is that we can't make our TV (Karen's TV) work with our cable box and our DVD player, because, well, I won't get into it. So, all DVD's have to watched in my bedroom, on my tiny TV and DVD player, which since I've had in my room have meant to buy something dirty so I can watch it in the privacy of my own room, but haven't gotten around to it yet.
So, Shannon and I pop some popcorn and are getting ready to get all cozy on my bed, when Karen arrives home. She joins our little party.
We all watch the movie together, constantly playing footsie, making jokes about who farted, and me complaining about how this is all the action that my bed is going to see for a long time, and during a sex scene, worrying out loud that I may break my vibrator before this fucking hiatus is over.
After the movie ends, we are lounging around in my bed trying to decide if the constant presence of candy in the movie has any significance, when Shannon finds one of my rather sizeable bra's tossed at the foot of the bed.
She picks it up and puts it on her head.
Karen and I laugh so hard that I'm sure that in recompense, this is the reason our neighbors played their dastardly mariachi music until 2 am, when I pounded my fist on the wall, to please, for the love of all that is holy, make it stop.
We're no Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte.
But damn, if we're not having a good time.
Today's Title from: La, La, La by Jay-Z
I was upset last night, for reasons that I will not divulge because I have a new personal rule of no more wallowing and feeling sorry for myself. I'm good enough, dammit! So, after work, I went to Barnes and Noble where I drowned my sorrows in a chai latte and a lemon raspberry square which was delicious. I, then, picked up another Chuck Palahniuk novel, having finished Choke and loved it and am now obsessed, with dear, sweet, psychotic Chuck.
Then, I went home, because I remembered that I had recently rented Half Nelson and have to actually watch it and return it before my status at Blockbuster matches my status at the The New York Public Library, where I am no longer welcome because I have lost about 6 books. Because I am an idiot.
My darling friend and roommate, Shannon, was home when I got there, so I suggested we watch Half Nelson together, since I knew that she had been wanting to watch it. The clincher is that we can't make our TV (Karen's TV) work with our cable box and our DVD player, because, well, I won't get into it. So, all DVD's have to watched in my bedroom, on my tiny TV and DVD player, which since I've had in my room have meant to buy something dirty so I can watch it in the privacy of my own room, but haven't gotten around to it yet.
So, Shannon and I pop some popcorn and are getting ready to get all cozy on my bed, when Karen arrives home. She joins our little party.
We all watch the movie together, constantly playing footsie, making jokes about who farted, and me complaining about how this is all the action that my bed is going to see for a long time, and during a sex scene, worrying out loud that I may break my vibrator before this fucking hiatus is over.
After the movie ends, we are lounging around in my bed trying to decide if the constant presence of candy in the movie has any significance, when Shannon finds one of my rather sizeable bra's tossed at the foot of the bed.
She picks it up and puts it on her head.
Karen and I laugh so hard that I'm sure that in recompense, this is the reason our neighbors played their dastardly mariachi music until 2 am, when I pounded my fist on the wall, to please, for the love of all that is holy, make it stop.
We're no Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte.
But damn, if we're not having a good time.
Today's Title from: La, La, La by Jay-Z
