your highness, i beg you, PLEASE don't fingerbang that manatee
good morning, journal. what's the good word? i apologize i've been neglecting you for.... ten months. i'd like to say that this entry, here on may 15, 2009, is my first step towards remedying our relationship, but i couldn't lie to you like that. we've been through too much. i want very much for us to be friends again, but you know me; i am unreliable. but baby, that don't mean we can't try.
so i was awoken...awakened...whatever, this morning i was jolted out of blissful slumber by my miley cyrus ringtone. i looked at the number, which i did not recognize, and then looked at the clock, which said SEVEN GODDAMN OH EIGHT, and then sleepily pressed ignore. thirty seconds later, my brain was assaulted by the deafening ring signaling a voicemail. i applied to a couple of hotels the other day and was kind of hoping that perhaps it was one of them calling me back. i could forgive them for the seven a.m. wake up call if they were willing to give me dental. but alas, no. it was evan from charles schwab, calling to inquire about a check i had presented and would i please call back before noon, eastern standard time? at this point i was already awake and i figured i might as well get it over with, and now, two and a half hours later, i'm really wishing i had just gone the fuck back to sleep.
i moved last month, back to san francisco. this was a good idea on many levels, all the levels that are important to you when you are 23 and romantic. however, it was not such a hot plan on the "have money to exist" level, which, no matter how much you try to tell yourself it's not, is actually pretty fucking important. i was pretty okay before bank of america raped 700 dollars out of me in overdraft fees (all over the course of one weekend, god bless them) and now chuck is taking 300 dollars for reasons i don't understand. just to make it clear, i do not have an extra 1000 dollars lying around to donate to various financial institutions. that 1000 dollars was reserved for whiskey sours and PBR, aka the month of may.
at any rate, fuck it. i am monumentally screwed right now, but i suppose all i can do at 10 am is turn on re-runs of frasier, make a pot of coffee, and chain smoke out the kitchen window until it gets to an appropriate time for me to not feel bad about opening a bottle of wine and getting smashed so as to forget my financial woes. that time may or may not be 10:30.
in other news, sex! i have kind of been having it. this in theory is good. also, i have kind of been having it with a bearded jew from new york who looks like ben affleck circa 2004. again, on paper, this is fucking awesome. unfortch (almost as unfortch as me saying "unfortch"), in practice, these seemingly fantastic circumstances have been less than stellar. for one, 2004 affleck is no 1998 affleck. however, i am well aware that 2004 affleck is still infinitely better than my right hand, so i won't shoot my mouth off on that one lest god think me ungrateful. the real pinch is that man! this dude is lame. like, real fuckin lame. goes on adult scavenger hunts, orders mai tais at dinner, listens to barenaked ladies-lame. i am interested in nothing about him except for the exceptional way he gets his heeby-swirl on, and this makes me depressed because remember when i wasn't such a slut? i used to be totally adorable and all about the yellow tent and learning to play cat stevens songs on the banjo. now i'm just some big ol' prosty, sacrificing decency and mutual admiration for a (sweet ass) lay. i've been dickmatized.
so everyone and their mother is graduating from college tomorrow. including my NEPHEW. meanwhile, i am tentatively registering for one summer class at city college. first time back in school in four years! maybe i will have a degree by the time i'm 38. i'd have a fuckin doctorate by now if they gave those out for being periodically unemployed, constantly drunk, and successfully watching every single episode of the munsters. anyone go to a school like that?
so i was awoken...awakened...whatever, this morning i was jolted out of blissful slumber by my miley cyrus ringtone. i looked at the number, which i did not recognize, and then looked at the clock, which said SEVEN GODDAMN OH EIGHT, and then sleepily pressed ignore. thirty seconds later, my brain was assaulted by the deafening ring signaling a voicemail. i applied to a couple of hotels the other day and was kind of hoping that perhaps it was one of them calling me back. i could forgive them for the seven a.m. wake up call if they were willing to give me dental. but alas, no. it was evan from charles schwab, calling to inquire about a check i had presented and would i please call back before noon, eastern standard time? at this point i was already awake and i figured i might as well get it over with, and now, two and a half hours later, i'm really wishing i had just gone the fuck back to sleep.
i moved last month, back to san francisco. this was a good idea on many levels, all the levels that are important to you when you are 23 and romantic. however, it was not such a hot plan on the "have money to exist" level, which, no matter how much you try to tell yourself it's not, is actually pretty fucking important. i was pretty okay before bank of america raped 700 dollars out of me in overdraft fees (all over the course of one weekend, god bless them) and now chuck is taking 300 dollars for reasons i don't understand. just to make it clear, i do not have an extra 1000 dollars lying around to donate to various financial institutions. that 1000 dollars was reserved for whiskey sours and PBR, aka the month of may.
at any rate, fuck it. i am monumentally screwed right now, but i suppose all i can do at 10 am is turn on re-runs of frasier, make a pot of coffee, and chain smoke out the kitchen window until it gets to an appropriate time for me to not feel bad about opening a bottle of wine and getting smashed so as to forget my financial woes. that time may or may not be 10:30.
in other news, sex! i have kind of been having it. this in theory is good. also, i have kind of been having it with a bearded jew from new york who looks like ben affleck circa 2004. again, on paper, this is fucking awesome. unfortch (almost as unfortch as me saying "unfortch"), in practice, these seemingly fantastic circumstances have been less than stellar. for one, 2004 affleck is no 1998 affleck. however, i am well aware that 2004 affleck is still infinitely better than my right hand, so i won't shoot my mouth off on that one lest god think me ungrateful. the real pinch is that man! this dude is lame. like, real fuckin lame. goes on adult scavenger hunts, orders mai tais at dinner, listens to barenaked ladies-lame. i am interested in nothing about him except for the exceptional way he gets his heeby-swirl on, and this makes me depressed because remember when i wasn't such a slut? i used to be totally adorable and all about the yellow tent and learning to play cat stevens songs on the banjo. now i'm just some big ol' prosty, sacrificing decency and mutual admiration for a (sweet ass) lay. i've been dickmatized.
so everyone and their mother is graduating from college tomorrow. including my NEPHEW. meanwhile, i am tentatively registering for one summer class at city college. first time back in school in four years! maybe i will have a degree by the time i'm 38. i'd have a fuckin doctorate by now if they gave those out for being periodically unemployed, constantly drunk, and successfully watching every single episode of the munsters. anyone go to a school like that?