Easy like Friday morning Friday 31/10/2003
I slept all night. And by that I mean, I wasn’t awakened by anyone’s snoring (The PZA’s OR Rose’s) and didn’t listen to Stern at 7am for 2 hours, like I normally do. It’s kind of weird and I am feeling a little discombobulated.
We finally bought Hallowe’en candy last night, from the store of Satan himself, WalMart. We got a 75 piece bag, of which I have already eaten 2. Come on, who can resist a Glosette Raisin?? We also carved our pumpkins. Mine turned out to be a very (boring) traditional cat motif. His is terrifying, it’s got melty eyes and a big sad mouth that he filled with bent, old, rusty nails, and a carrot for a nose. They are sitting in our kitchen windows looking out, so no ratty teenagers can smash them. I am 100% psyched for handing out candy tonight!
Now I must dash upstairs and put the cinnamon buns in the oven. The smell so good, taste even better. And there was a goop on the back of my hand that I thought was from them, but when I licked it…I don’t know what it was. Let’s not think about it too hard, ok?
My Summer Vacation Tuesday 28/10/2003
Ok, so my last diary entry was written before any of the real excitement of the weekend unfolded. Friday night I went out for sushi with my best girlfriend and her sister and a couple dorks. Then we all went to see Mystic River, which was an ok movie. Then me and the Mrs dropped one of the dorks off at his house and proceded to the bar, had 2 drinks each, then went home. I chilled out on the couch waiting for The PZA to get home….
Which he did at 3am. And was he drunk? Does Greg Brady wear groovy threads? First I hear him fumbling with the lock, then yelling to his friend “I guess my fuckin’ girlfriend isn’t home. I dunno where the fuck she is.” Then stumbling in and falling face first, loudly, on the kitchen floor. Would you be impressed? Then he asks what I did and because I am not all lovey-dovey he gets mad and accuses me of being a bitch. Which I love, yes, being awakened by a beligerant drunk…Anyway, he stumbles upstairs and crashes out on the spare bed. I head downstairs to our bedroom and hope it’s all over. But no.
Suddenly a terrible and extended crashing and pounding noise, and I realize he’s fallen down the stairs. So I get very scared, race up and he’s laying at the bottom of the stairs holding his face and saying ow ow ow. He looks ok though, manages to right himself and go pee, and I help him down to our bed. Luckily he falls asleep fairly quickly.
Turns out he’d had 13 pints and lord knows how many shots.
Next day we go out for breakfast with a friend. He asks about the sushi we had and I finally mention that it wasn’t just my friend I was with, but also the other three people. I promise, it wasn’t a big deal, I had no nefarious reasoning behind not telling him, I just figured that a) it wasn’t worth mentioning, and b) he’d probably only get mad anyway. But I can’t lie, so I told the truth. And guess who got in the most trouble?
Sigh.
Sometimes you can’t win for losing.
Sea-Bass Friday 24/10/2003
The black cat, Seamus, makes me laugh all the time. I don’t know what it is about her that is so funny, but just thinking about her cracks me up. Her messy face, her silly meows, her aimless wandering…I can even recognize her in the dark because she stomps when she walks.
Here is what happened last night: We were watching The Italian Job (ok, albeit predictable movie) and Seamus came up to me and stood on the floor and meowed. So I invited her up onto my lap, and she leapt up, and I realized that she smelled bad, like pee. So I shoved her off my lap. She walked 3 feet, turned around and jumped back up. I’d been folding laundry earlier, so I rubbed her all over with a used dryer sheet, which she didn’t like much. Ran away again, 3 feet, turned around and jumped back up. Rubbed her again. Ran away again. Then Paul yelled at me and shoved the dryer sheet deep into my pants. I mean, DEEP. Then when he wasn’t looking I hid it in the hood of his jacket. Ha ha and ha on him.
Yep, I ate another peanut butter bagel today.
Now it’s time to read the mail, or flyers, as some people call it.
Addictions Thursday 23/10/2003
I am currently addicted to peanut buttered toast. I can not get enough of it, and make it at least 2 meals per day. I love it when the pb gets all melty and runs over my fingers, making it impossible to type without a napkin being handy.
Me and The PZA are going to see an OHL game tonight. Maybe. Well, it’s something to do. My loneliness is profound right now.
I am going to make a timeline of my typical day, won’t that be fascinating.
When adding hex code to my page I find it impossible not to add the “u” to the word color.