I heart the DMV
So I haven't done a damn thing for the last week and a half. Except drink on weekends. But oh have I been drinking on weekends. Good thing my friends are all lame now and they're like, "we're not going to your apartment to drink because we would rather go to raves every weekend with all the sixteen year olds that also go to raves every weekend." Because if you're going to a rave, you should probably be in high school. No offense.
I'm just in a bad mood because I've been stuck in this apartment for the last week in a half. The Target I transferred to doesn't open until October 10 and I can't focus enough to get anything done in the apartment. I can't even unpack my shit because I'm so damn lazy. I basically got out my CD's and movies and put the rest in the storage closet.
But the apartment still looks good.
The other night we partied with this kid, Dustin. He is a bearded tattoo artist who Victor invited over. Stephanie and I had had classes with him in high school but we had never really talked to him before or after that night so I was a little surprised when earlier today I got a text that said, "Hey this is Dustin..I went through great trouble to get your number..." He had questions to ask me like, "Do you like anime?" and "I know you like music, but what else do you like?" and "Would you like to read my poetry?"
The latter question was texted to me a while ago and I didn't know what to say so I started typing this instead. That way instead of saying "no" I can say, "sorry I kind of disappeared for a while. I was updating my livejournal" and hope he forgot the question.
But really, who asks someone they barely know if they want to read their poetry? They have to know what an awkward question that is. Only .0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001% of poetry in the world even reaches mediocrity, much less real quality and having to lie to someones face about the profoundness of their emotions is one of my least favorite activities.
Ugh.
At least I get the pills back on the 17th.
Oh, and we get the porn channels at our apartment until next month. So, uh, take advantage of that shit. I know I am.
I'm just in a bad mood because I've been stuck in this apartment for the last week in a half. The Target I transferred to doesn't open until October 10 and I can't focus enough to get anything done in the apartment. I can't even unpack my shit because I'm so damn lazy. I basically got out my CD's and movies and put the rest in the storage closet.
But the apartment still looks good.
The other night we partied with this kid, Dustin. He is a bearded tattoo artist who Victor invited over. Stephanie and I had had classes with him in high school but we had never really talked to him before or after that night so I was a little surprised when earlier today I got a text that said, "Hey this is Dustin..I went through great trouble to get your number..." He had questions to ask me like, "Do you like anime?" and "I know you like music, but what else do you like?" and "Would you like to read my poetry?"
The latter question was texted to me a while ago and I didn't know what to say so I started typing this instead. That way instead of saying "no" I can say, "sorry I kind of disappeared for a while. I was updating my livejournal" and hope he forgot the question.
But really, who asks someone they barely know if they want to read their poetry? They have to know what an awkward question that is. Only .0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001% of poetry in the world even reaches mediocrity, much less real quality and having to lie to someones face about the profoundness of their emotions is one of my least favorite activities.
Ugh.
At least I get the pills back on the 17th.
Oh, and we get the porn channels at our apartment until next month. So, uh, take advantage of that shit. I know I am.