May 2nd, 2005

Brilliant!

(no subject)

I am hungry and tired...I got up at 7 because I had to pee (my bladder was full! Full of urine!) then I didn't go back to sleep because sleep is for the weak. So I can't drink anything hot or I will go back to sleep.

The weather is weird this morning. It's overcast, and some of the clouds look very roily, but the sun is also shining. Yesterday it hailed several times...today, Netscape describes the weather as "frozen mix," which makes me hopeful that it will soon start raining banana milkshakes and I will be able to catch some in a cup if I go out onto the deck.

I wish I had a blender.

I have forgotten anything else I have to say. Well, that's not true. I dreamt I was eating chicken. It looked very tasty but it was actually a tad dry, which makes me suspect I may have been gnawing on my pillow. There was also a guy, but no cuddles. I don't think he liked me very much. Story of my life. I bet he's the one who brought me the chicken. He probably didn't want to eat it because it was so dry, so he brought it to me. I bet it was because of a dare.

I think I've watched too many cheesy teen movies. You know the ones where the really popular guy accepts a dare or a bet from his friends that he can make the geekiest girl in school popular within 2 weeks' time? Whenever an attractive guy talks to me in any manner other than "impersonal," all I can think is "How much is the bet for? Where are the secret cameras?" and the thing is, it's not like I was hated in high school or college. I think people probably thought I was uptight, which I was. But high school was small enough that most of us had grown up together, and played together when we were younger, so we were like siblings. With a few exceptions. And college was...college, and I think I just faded into the background, which is what I wanted anyway, because otherwise I would have been spending all my time wandering around the fourth floor with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other.

It's sunny again. Sorta. The clouds are very high, some are fluffy and white and rimmed with light, and others are heavy and dark and oppressive and I'll bet they're the ones holding my banana milkshakes. I don't think it's hot enough to get thunderstormy, but a girl can wish, can't she?

I should probably go eat something before I waste away (in about 6 months). Nothing really sounds good, though. Ironically enough, we DO have some leftover chicken in the fridge, but I think I'll stick to cereal at the moment, then maybe work my way up.
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Brilliant!

(no subject)

Okay. So, Keels and I have never sent away the Christmas gifts we got for other people. We had them at Christmas, and we had them wrapped in brown paper by New Year's. Brown paper, I might add, that we neglected to label, because my beautiful and talented roommate (whom I absolutely adore and who is much better with her memory than I) insisted she knew the person to whom each package would go.

And she did know, I'm sure. Back in January.

About 5 minutes ago--

Keels: Houston, we have a problem.

Me: *turns around, sees her standing next to the pile'o'packages* You don't know who the packages belong to?

Keels: No.

Me: You may remember when we wrapped them in the brown paper, and I suggested we label them, but you said you knew which was which.

Keels: I did! ... Four months ago.

But I do not condemn her. It is as much my fault as hers, and it's not like we can't just open the packages and peek inside.

But children, let this be a lesson to you. Always label your packages when you wrap them.

NOTE: The only reason I wrote about this as a matter of note is because, so often, I am the forgetful one. I am the one lacking in common sense, the absentminded one, the dazed-looking one wandering around the parking lot looking for my car when I actually came on the bus.