Monday, June 21, 2004

I Hated Rules in 2nd Grade, and I Hate Them Now.

What the hell are The Rules? If you want to call someone, you should be able to, right? But people have to play these stupid games. And what's really sad is that I stay interested longer if he plays hard to get. Ugh..well, it's working! How can I make him love mee? Not call him?!

Sunday, June 20, 2004


Ugh...drinking...Jager Bombs.. strip poker. Denny's and flat tires. Ugh...

Friday, June 18, 2004

Home for the Weekend

Why I love the Midwest:
1. Nice people.
2. Trees and grass.
3. Friends and family.
4. Indoor malls and Wal-Marts.
5. Free food sample day at Sam's Club.

Why I hate the Midwest:
1. Ghetto bars like America's Pub.
2. Poor selection of shoes and handbags.
3. The predictability of every day.
4. Can't haggle for prices on shoes and handbags.
5. I have to be nice because everyone else is.

Saturday, June 12, 2004

Beer vs. Jogging

So I'm jogging in my ghetto-fabulous Brooklyn 'hood this afternoon about 1:38 p.m. when suddenly, the sky lights up! There, in bold cloud-shrouded letters are the words "Heineken Heineken Heine.." Yes, one of those jet-writer things. So I'm jogging. And my thought process goes a little like this: "It's hot, I'm sweaty. Damn, I'd like a beer. I wonder if all of New York is standing still, faces upturned toward the sky, thinking exactly what I'm thinking right now...Damn, I need a beer. Fuck this jog. I'm gonna go get me a beer." And I traipse back to my corner bar and grab me a Heini. That's some damn good advertising.

Yay, I'm going on a sushi date tonight. That sounds so cool..sushi. I recently discovered the trendy delicacy. :)

Tuesday, June 8, 2004


Why do boys suuuck? And why well, why just do boys suck? And I'm drunk. I don't give a flying f-u-c-k. I went to some stupid MTV party, which sounds mighty cool. Well, okay, it was..ha! But of course The Intern came—don't get me wrong, she's cool. But yeah, she's also 5'10" with long dark hair and skinnier than a girl half my size. And of course she got hit on by rock stars—my rock stars! Ugh, if any of you know me at all, it's that my dream is to date a rock star. But I looked like a fat farm girl tonight. Blah blah blah. And t hen I drunk dialed The Ex. Why am I so dumb? Boo hoo. Well, Andy Dick said hi to me. I guess that's a consolation. But he's fugly! Wah. Ack. Sorry, so this is dumb. I'm dumb. Lots of people in the world would be happy here. I shouldn't complain. Bu tthat just goes to show that no matter how peachy life my seem, or how pinker the grass is on the other side of the never is! People are just dumb. And all our lives suck. 'Nough said. Good night.

Friday, June 4, 2004

Lessons in Love: Hampton-style

Memorial Day weekend was fuuun. So I went to stay with Pat—The Ex—in Long Island. Anne and I got our asses burned at the beach on Saturday, and then we soothed our aching blisters over cocktails that night. Anne really hit if off with Pat's middle-aged uncle, and he proceeded to get her blitzed to the point that she could hardly stand. Needless to say, our night o' fun concluded at 12—poor Anne—and I made the possible mistake of sleeping in the same bed as The Ex. He proceeded to jump my bones, at which point I pretended to doze off. Didn't last long, because he uttered those words I've longed to hear—just not from The Ex. "I love you." Eek!

I awoke to the birds chirping and The Ex...tickling my feet. "Get up, get up!" Sometimes, boys are like little kids. Dude, let me sleep. I'm not a morning person. It reminds me why I don't mind being single sometimes. Maybe I will purchase 47 plants and 9 obnxious cats and live alone for the rest of my life.

But Sunday proved to be uberfun! Pat and I drive to his cousin's house at 11 a.m. There, on the front lawn, is 12 dudes in combat boots and crude shirts (Klitty Litter: Freshens her box!) drinking the New York equivalent of Natty Light. So 13 dudes and I cram into a rented van and head to the Hamptons. Boy-oh-boy did I miss out on all the sorority spring breaks! We went to this oceanside beach club that looked eerily similar to the MTV club in the Hamptons...after six $4 cans of Bud Light, I dedice it's time for a romp on the beach. I threw sand in Pat's hair, and he screamed like a girl. It was fun.

Then we crammed back in the van at about 3 p.m. and head to a tent called The Boardy sounds shady, but apparently it's the place to be because while standing in line to enter this prestigious establishment, Pat thinks it's a good time to check his voicemail. We immediately hear a booming voice, "Get out! No cell phones allowed!" And do you know what this asshole's reasoning was? He didn't want people to call their friends and tell them to come to The Boardy Barn. It would get overcrowded. Gimme a break! Who runs a business like that?! So we got kicked out. Could I possibly get kicked out of any more New York bars? I wonder...

So Pat and I are half-drunk wandering around the Hamptons. His uncle rescued us, and then we went to dinner. Pat took this alone-time to explain his reasoning for saying "I love you." Apparently he just cares about me, after all, I'm not only his Ex, but an uberclose friend, too. Well Pat, if that's what "I love you" means, then ditto.
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