toejam

and for the first time in three weeks, or a month, or more, I actually spent time (2+hours) with myself in my apartment, and really, I have such a cute apartment.

and yes, I like getting hit on in the parking lot of ChiLake liquors. He was so cute. SO cute. Score one for the "why doesn't this shit happen when i'm single?" column.

Oh. OH. Usual Friday nights this summer have been uptown or cabins, tonight an unusual yet welcome vacancy, since I've been hacking myself to death with the plague since Tuesday. Next week, resume. If not, the weekend after, for sure, since I'm taking people to my parents' cabin in Brainerd where they say we can do stuff such as flying! and fishing! and hot-tubbing! says Dad. As per usual, ridiculousness will ensue. It's obvious I don't update this ever because all of my inane inside jokes fester on facebook, and no one else gets them, but yet, it is satisfying to me. Fucking facebook.

You think you're radical
But you're not so radical
In fact you're fanatical
You think you're radical
But you're not so radical
In fact you're just fanatical! Fanatical!

( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. )

Hey so,I found myself a place to live. No more suburbs. Mom and Dad are apparently selling the house in Shorewood this spring, they bought a cabin sitting on five acres on the river in Brainerd. I'm also casually seeing someone and still working at that place in Edina.

The end.

after playing tonsil hockey with god-knows-who against several walls at spin, an after party with a bachelor party at the marriot, and crawling back to the apartment as the sun rose, i vomited the thirty rum and cokes that were hanging out in my stomach.

it really is lovely being young.

Bachelorette Party Extravaganza

Something occurred to me while driving home this afternoon, speeding on 212; I was coaxing my shoes off, using the phone, and driving stick, all simultaneously accomplished in a matter of a minute: I AM AWESOME.

No, REALLY.

I'm about to add that to my resume.

Should I mention I was also chewing gum?

This job I've been going to, it's something. I'm not sure if it's something good, it's not something bad either, so it's just something. Today, for instance, while fulfilling my receptionist duties (you should hear my fakey phone voice at 8a - pure gold) I take the second call from David's (owner boss-man) mother in the past ten minutes. "Did David call? I was on the phone." "Dave, did you call your mother?" "About 100 times." "She's off the phone now." "Did she just call you to tell you she was off the phone?" "Yep." He didn't call her back within three minutes, so of course she called again. I'm her in 50 years. Provided I can still dial a phone. Let's just hope I don't have children, mmmkay.

Go Flo, GO.

amy winehouse in rehab: amusing.
also disappointing.
can't anyone just be fucked up anymore? not like it was hurting her success.

whatever. it's hump day.

google result for "hump melena."