Slightly sickening ode to the media and commercial corporations to which I am eternally enslaved
Spring break's gone by without so much as a banana-eating contest or a tequila shooter. I was productive for about a day. Then I reverted into the proverbial couch potato and sponged up as much celeb gossip and History Channel as I could hold.
If that last sentence wasn't a good enough indication, let me just point out that my life when I'm at home is excruciatingly sad. Basically I hunker down and sleep in front of the TV all day. I hung out with people a few times, but I never really made any effort to do anything. I don't know why people stay friends with me; I'm so bad about keeping in touch.
I'm also bad about spending money. My first night back, I spent about sixty bucks at Victoria's Secret (after having spent a good one-fifty there the week before), and yesterday I splurged on lotions and shoes - a bunch of new citrus stuff and four pairs, respectively. I'm a disgrace.
I need to get off my ass.
And tomorrow I head back to school. Good thing, too; sit here any longer and I run the risk of being permanently infused to the couch a la that lady in Nip/Tuck minus the gross unnecessary poundage and unfortunate fecal matter.
Godspeed, E! True Hollywood stories. Fare thee well, The Tyra Banks Show, my undying guiltiest of guilty pleasures. You will be missed.
As I get ready to truck back to the gloomy, polluted streets of Heroin City, USA, my family's getting ready to head off to Colorado for a spring break ski trip with some friends. How's that fair?
"It's not our fault that your spring break's so early," Dad shrugged when I assumed the position of "Pouty Bitch" after hearing this news. "Besides, you're going to China this summer."
The hell? Suddenly a trip to China somehow cancels out everything and makes it OK for them to go skiing without me?
Come to think of it, though, it probably won't end up happening. It's the end of March, and even in Colorado ... global warming hasn't let me down yet.
Wow, bitter much? Time to meditate, Chooch.
If that last sentence wasn't a good enough indication, let me just point out that my life when I'm at home is excruciatingly sad. Basically I hunker down and sleep in front of the TV all day. I hung out with people a few times, but I never really made any effort to do anything. I don't know why people stay friends with me; I'm so bad about keeping in touch.
I'm also bad about spending money. My first night back, I spent about sixty bucks at Victoria's Secret (after having spent a good one-fifty there the week before), and yesterday I splurged on lotions and shoes - a bunch of new citrus stuff and four pairs, respectively. I'm a disgrace.
I need to get off my ass.
And tomorrow I head back to school. Good thing, too; sit here any longer and I run the risk of being permanently infused to the couch a la that lady in Nip/Tuck minus the gross unnecessary poundage and unfortunate fecal matter.
Godspeed, E! True Hollywood stories. Fare thee well, The Tyra Banks Show, my undying guiltiest of guilty pleasures. You will be missed.
As I get ready to truck back to the gloomy, polluted streets of Heroin City, USA, my family's getting ready to head off to Colorado for a spring break ski trip with some friends. How's that fair?
"It's not our fault that your spring break's so early," Dad shrugged when I assumed the position of "Pouty Bitch" after hearing this news. "Besides, you're going to China this summer."
The hell? Suddenly a trip to China somehow cancels out everything and makes it OK for them to go skiing without me?
Come to think of it, though, it probably won't end up happening. It's the end of March, and even in Colorado ... global warming hasn't let me down yet.
Wow, bitter much? Time to meditate, Chooch.