Sunday, July 6, 2008

All my friends say that of course its going to get better, gunna get better better, better, better, better, better, better, better

Sunday night of the most beautiful weekend of the summer. spent the days sunning my pasty body at the cottage. drinking fucking sugar syrup aka smirnoff ice. its weekends like this that I remember why I wanted to work a the daily 9-5 grind.



google "how much time to learn swimming" and the first hit is this blog. try it. i swear to god. unfortunately there is no relevant material here about learning to swim. maybe learning to grow up without sinking. whoa, deep. get it? i am fucking on fire here.



someone needs to tell me how to do strike outs when I type.



Heres something I have noticed that grown up people do. they remember shit that happened by the year it happened. "Oh right that was right after I bough my first car, that was in 1967" "Well I was transferred there in 1998". uhhhh I can hardly remember what the CURRENT year is. Do you know the year you finished high school without having to count back? the year you learned to ride your bike? like when all of the sudden does everything become associated to a year? Why is remembering the year important? I just don't understand it. and people do it a lot.



I am going to learn how to solemn ski this summer.



I am going to Cure my apartment this summer. I have been re-re-re-re-reading Apartment Therapy the book to inspire myself into completely shaking up my apartment and its contents to function properly. the first area of business is the closet.




Also I am going to try to blog more consistently. i have a million moments everyday that i think of something witty or intelligent to write about and ...well....we all know this blog is a mumble jumble of random shit, nothing close to the glory it could be if I spent some actual time thinking about posts.



can a 21 year old girl go to a bar by herself and drink? i haven't decided the answer yet. i feel like it is an open invitation for something like date rape or the like. its not that i want to go drinking by myself but going out to eat by yourself is just as bad and more expensive. and then you get into a weird relationship with the server. they are wondering if your a big enough loser to go out and eat by yourself or if they should wait to take your drink order because someone is coming to save your dignity. and then when you politly take a stab at starting a conversation, as you would likely do with someone sitting across the table from you, they peg you as the 'lonely desperate girl, tipping someone in order to have convo's with someone other then her six cats' type.'

and then there is the issue of what to do when your sitting by your lonely self. Book? ipod? magazine? newspaper? people watching? sudoku? I usually opt for the book. BUT always regret it when it comes to eating and reading at the same time. one hand holding the book open. one for your fork. better not have ordered anything that requires cutting or eating with two hands you fool. uh oh time to flip the page. fuck this blog just hit a new low.

so the moral of the story, its socially acceptable to go out and eat by yourself but its a pain in the ass. Drinking at a bar alone...I don't know if i'm ready for that yet. maybe I should try getting a few cats first and then see how it goes.



alright so i know i haven't been holding my weight on the whole blogging consistently thing but there are a few people who KNOW WHO THEY ARE who haven't been doing dick shit on their blogs for quite some time. so this is a call out to get your asses in gear and give me a reason to sign in to blogger and be inspired to write. please.

1 comment:

zoeyjane said...

i love smirnoff ice, don't knock my boyfriend.

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