Everything you hated me for... Honey there was so much more
when you spend so much of your waking life in a bookstore, you forget that there are people who actually can't read. and they all go book shopping this week. i will love my life so much more when i don't have to listen to sarah mclachlan (who i normally have a weird fascination with) butcher a john lennon christmas song.
andy d keeps getting fucked up with margot and the kids when i'm working and i fucking hate him for it and always will. i need a bit of faux-rockstar debauchery these days, since the war that's been waging at the bars recently has become more than i ever feel like dealing with. i especially like the prospect of hanging out with an octet since most fans won't know i'm not with the band and i can practice my random lying, since i haven't had a chance in years to commit myself to making up shit that would never be believable if i didn't have an acting degree.
my early presents so far have been fooking great, if anyone cares (which you don't). Justin got me a vintage cubs hat that was miraculously fitted to my head (with the new shaggy mess i have). Matty got me a beer set with tall glass from the Schneider Brewery which has the only doppelbock i will ever drink (because bocks are polarizing beers. they're either couph syrup or ambrosia, and this one is the latter). Sarah and Michael got me a shirt from the onion that i've been coveting for at least 6 years now ("Your Favorite Band Sucks"). Tim got me the PJ Harvey Peel Sessions Album which i was about to buy anyway. and as far as i know, my mom is getting me Zelda for the gamecube, a crock pot, a better foreman grill, and the proper distraction to let me puppynap Abbey Road and finally have an adorable puppy in my life.
i've had that horrible seasonal sadness that could only be solved by a cuddling-addicted yorkshire terrier that indiscriminately loves me. it'll end after my burfday which i'm dreading because 25 is my fourth favourite number, and i was hoping that by then (since i haven't reached 2 of my other favourites, and i was 3.141592653 years old for my other) i would be on a coast somewhere, and i would have enough interest in random hobbies to keep me from being so concerned with the internet.
it'll just be another burfday though. i'll either get drunk and not remember it, or stay in and avoid having to deal with it. or both.
and here's a request for you fuckers: i need a vacation, and i've had an offer to ski over a couple of days in traverse city, which is exciting, since i've never strapped myself to planks of wood to slide on snow before, but that's only a couple of days, and i need at least a week. any of you chicago bastards have anything exciting going on in february? how about grand rapids? if all else fails, i'll take a bunch of clothes, books, and cds with me and just get lost in canada while i'm up there, but just in case i've been an insensitive bastard and not spoken to any of you in the non-lafayette region, let me know, since i'm sure there's a fuckton i've missed while i've been stuck here.
andy d keeps getting fucked up with margot and the kids when i'm working and i fucking hate him for it and always will. i need a bit of faux-rockstar debauchery these days, since the war that's been waging at the bars recently has become more than i ever feel like dealing with. i especially like the prospect of hanging out with an octet since most fans won't know i'm not with the band and i can practice my random lying, since i haven't had a chance in years to commit myself to making up shit that would never be believable if i didn't have an acting degree.
my early presents so far have been fooking great, if anyone cares (which you don't). Justin got me a vintage cubs hat that was miraculously fitted to my head (with the new shaggy mess i have). Matty got me a beer set with tall glass from the Schneider Brewery which has the only doppelbock i will ever drink (because bocks are polarizing beers. they're either couph syrup or ambrosia, and this one is the latter). Sarah and Michael got me a shirt from the onion that i've been coveting for at least 6 years now ("Your Favorite Band Sucks"). Tim got me the PJ Harvey Peel Sessions Album which i was about to buy anyway. and as far as i know, my mom is getting me Zelda for the gamecube, a crock pot, a better foreman grill, and the proper distraction to let me puppynap Abbey Road and finally have an adorable puppy in my life.
i've had that horrible seasonal sadness that could only be solved by a cuddling-addicted yorkshire terrier that indiscriminately loves me. it'll end after my burfday which i'm dreading because 25 is my fourth favourite number, and i was hoping that by then (since i haven't reached 2 of my other favourites, and i was 3.141592653 years old for my other) i would be on a coast somewhere, and i would have enough interest in random hobbies to keep me from being so concerned with the internet.
it'll just be another burfday though. i'll either get drunk and not remember it, or stay in and avoid having to deal with it. or both.
and here's a request for you fuckers: i need a vacation, and i've had an offer to ski over a couple of days in traverse city, which is exciting, since i've never strapped myself to planks of wood to slide on snow before, but that's only a couple of days, and i need at least a week. any of you chicago bastards have anything exciting going on in february? how about grand rapids? if all else fails, i'll take a bunch of clothes, books, and cds with me and just get lost in canada while i'm up there, but just in case i've been an insensitive bastard and not spoken to any of you in the non-lafayette region, let me know, since i'm sure there's a fuckton i've missed while i've been stuck here.