So since tomorrow is the first day of classes, and kids tend to par-tay on those days, Matt and I decided to mix up a few cocktails and have a sad little par-tay of our own. Hilarity ensued. After having two drinks, eating a whole box of Lean Cuisine pizza rolls, a corn dog, and a mini pizza between the two of us, we decided it was time for bed. Our party was about 45 minutes long.
So my New Years resolution is to keep track of mine and Matthew’s money (ours?), because I don’t right now. And if someone were to steal my identity, I wouldn’t even realize it.
Because I’m that loaded.
So I forgot something else I want for my birthday, which was 10 days ago: new belly dance apparel. And new pointe shoes. And a cat box, because I have TWO. NEW. KITTENS!
Just for the record, I expected you to read that aloud and with enthusiasm, much like people do WHEEL. OF. FORTUNE!, if you couldn’t tell by the boldness and capitalization. If you didn’t read it aloud and with enthusiasm, I advise that you go back and do so. I think you’d appreciate it much more.
So there’s been this watermelon in a bag in my fridge for about three weeks now. Matt brought it home, and he hasn’t touched it yet. I probably won’t eat it, because I don’t eat squishy fruits (tomatoes, over-ripe bananas, over-ripe anything). He probably won’t eat it, because he forgets about leftovers easily.
Gabe probably won’t eat it, because, well, he’s Columbian, and I don’t think they have watermelon in Columbia.
So for those who don’t know, I moved. Relocated, if you will. Instead of ye olde Nashville, I now live in the crotch of middle Tennessee, Murfreesboro. I just a.) didn’t want to live in a dorm again, and b.) didn’t want to commute from Nashville every day like Matt has done for the past 3 years. So Matthew, Gabe, and I have joined forces and are renting an apartment, Three’s Company style. Except I’m doing one of them (more…)
So I think the crazy sandwich lady at McCallie is mad at me. She ususally tells me how much she likes my dresses and says how her parents wouldn’t let her be a hippie and how she calls her old dear mother every day and how I eat a wrap with lettuce, cheese, bell pepper, and onion every day. But now, it’s all business. She makes me a sandwich and hands me a plate. What did I do? Did she find out she actually creeped me out a little bit? Does she think I did something I didn’t do? I’m losing sleep over this, folks.
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So I was going to blog yesterday, but I was distracted. I was all set. I had a Diet Coke and a bag of popcorn, and I was in the mood for bloggin’. Then the phone rings. Of course, it’s for my mom, who is at her friend’s house. That’s okay though, because I’m still in blog mode. So I head to the computer… “Wait, where’s my coke?… I must have set it down to look at the caller I.D….Crap.” I had no idea where it was. I searched around the house for (I crap you not) at least 30 minutes looking for my coke.
I looked on every table.
I looked in the fridge.
I looked in the microwave.
I looked by the computer.
Finally, I check in the garbage can, and sure enough, there it is. Of course I didn’t take it out and drink the rest. What do you think I am, gross or something?
So I was ultra bummed about my loss of beverage and failed to blog.
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So I just realized that I could never have a pager. You know why? Because I never call people back. If you’ve ever called me, I’ve probably not called you back. Don’t take it personally; I just tend not to call people back, just like some people tend to bite their nails or poop themselves. It’s just a bad habit.
My mom used to have a beeper when she was a social worker. I was seven. I thought that was just too cool, so I saved up my money and got a plastic beeper filled with bubblegum. (more…)
So Erick came over today, right as dad was dropping me off at mom’s. I invited him in to stay for a few minutes to show him my iDog, and I just realized: That was the first time my whole family, all four of us, have been in the same house in over four years.
Even though I really know that my parents hate each other and there will never be any kind of resolution for their dispute, and I know that my dad and my brother have hated each other since my brother’s balls dropped, it was still really nice to have everyone in the same house again. It was for less than five minutes, but it was still really comforting. Just like it was when I was 6 years old.
Sorry, I’m being gay. (more…)
So I have this friend… Let’s call her Hairy. Hairy just did it (and I don’t mean poop) for the first time a bit over a month ago. Welp, the other day, she just called me to tell me that something went horribly awry. You know what I’m talking about. She told me to guess, so this is what I guessed:
Liz: I give up.
Hairy: Come on Liz. It’s something you’ve done before.
Liz: Oh Hairy, you dirty girl! I can’t believe you! Oh you slut! (more…)