oh my god it is SO MESSY in here
Michelle has a friend over right now and right after her friend came in the door, she apologized for how messy it was.
But what she meant was how messy I am.
Here is what qualifies as messy:
a bag on landry (in a laundry bag) on the floor in front of my dresser.
my purse is on the floor.
I have a toolbox filled with drawing supplies under my lofted bed.
I am working on a painting (next to my bed) so I have a canvas, a piece of masonite that I am using as a palette, brushes and water out.
Also, on the table I have some notes stacked neatly on top of my art history textbook, because I have to study.
Oh Jesus, please please save Michelle from my terrible heathen mess!
Michelle, who has never cleaned the bathroom or the kitchen, or run the dishwasher, or changed the toilet paper (except one time) in three months.
She made an art website for our communication design class and put pictures of diamonds all over it. Then she explained how she wrote a real biography for it. I wrote a sentence about how I like tumors for my biography. Andy wrote the top 10 facts about Andy for his. my favorite was number four: When Andy was in fourth grade, he wrote an autobiography entitled, Just Plain Me. This was later adopted into the screenplay for Fight Club.
When her friend left, Michelle said "okay, bye. Godbless!"
on Fridat night, I came home after hanging out with andys and taylor and charlie and crawled into bed.
2:30 am and this is what I hear:
"Erin. Erin. Erin? Erin."
"What is going on. michelle? what?"
"Erin. There is a bug on the wall."
"oh."
"No, well, would you just kill it for me."
"no."
"But I can't really sleep if there are bugs near my bed."
"I am sleeping. I don't kill bugs."
"But I really can't sleep if there are bugs."
"Michelle, I am sorry but I don't like bugs either. I am not getting out of bed to kill it. Put baking soda on it."
"why?"
"that will make it explode."
"oh."
and that is when I turned around, put my comforter over my head and fell back asleep.
Whatthefuck. Why would I want to wake up at 2 30, get out of my warm bed and kill bugs?
But what she meant was how messy I am.
Here is what qualifies as messy:
a bag on landry (in a laundry bag) on the floor in front of my dresser.
my purse is on the floor.
I have a toolbox filled with drawing supplies under my lofted bed.
I am working on a painting (next to my bed) so I have a canvas, a piece of masonite that I am using as a palette, brushes and water out.
Also, on the table I have some notes stacked neatly on top of my art history textbook, because I have to study.
Oh Jesus, please please save Michelle from my terrible heathen mess!
Michelle, who has never cleaned the bathroom or the kitchen, or run the dishwasher, or changed the toilet paper (except one time) in three months.
She made an art website for our communication design class and put pictures of diamonds all over it. Then she explained how she wrote a real biography for it. I wrote a sentence about how I like tumors for my biography. Andy wrote the top 10 facts about Andy for his. my favorite was number four: When Andy was in fourth grade, he wrote an autobiography entitled, Just Plain Me. This was later adopted into the screenplay for Fight Club.
When her friend left, Michelle said "okay, bye. Godbless!"
on Fridat night, I came home after hanging out with andys and taylor and charlie and crawled into bed.
2:30 am and this is what I hear:
"Erin. Erin. Erin? Erin."
"What is going on. michelle? what?"
"Erin. There is a bug on the wall."
"oh."
"No, well, would you just kill it for me."
"no."
"But I can't really sleep if there are bugs near my bed."
"I am sleeping. I don't kill bugs."
"But I really can't sleep if there are bugs."
"Michelle, I am sorry but I don't like bugs either. I am not getting out of bed to kill it. Put baking soda on it."
"why?"
"that will make it explode."
"oh."
and that is when I turned around, put my comforter over my head and fell back asleep.
Whatthefuck. Why would I want to wake up at 2 30, get out of my warm bed and kill bugs?