gulu
part of the reason why i only update this journal once or twice a month is the lack of topics to talk about. it's hard to find novel ways of telling people that, hey, my life revolves around (mainly) three things: work, school and home. how do you spiffy up an un-spiffy-ied life? and besides, people don't really like to read about the mundane stuff because -- hello?! -- everyone else is, i'm assuming, feeling/living the same way.
last friday was quite an exception, though. i worked late (what else is new?) and a co-worker stayed with me, whilst i coded a bazillion invoices, to regale me with her cell phone's music collection. i asked her if she wanted to have a pint at the "gulu" afterwards and she acquiesced. (by the way, the "gulu" is this weird moniker given by the current crop of summer students to make the usual after-work pub sound more obscure and professional - i beg to differ because it doesn't sound remotely professional, but the name's now stuck and i have no way of changing it.)
so we kicked back and ordered a pitcher. before i knew it, a pitcher's turned into another pitcher and the stories just kept flowin'. i have not felt like that - physically and mentally - in a long while. i'm pretty much an open book, but there are still some things that only a select few know. so it was surprising to be able to let inhibitions out the window and talk about my fears and hopes to someone who i didn't necessarily think would 'get it'. she echoed the same sentiments, too, and i was actually surprised that at the end of the night, i was giving away some primo advice on "how to get along with your sibling". ironic, considering i loathe my older brother with a passion, but no matter: i was dishing out nuggets of wisdom left and right!
i'd like to think that the alcohol from consuming a pitcher of beer had to do with all the verbal shit i spewed that night. but actually, aside from the fact that i think i made some inroads into my own brain's inner workings, i'm proud to say that i finished a pitcher of beer without developing hives the next day. AND -- !!! -- to put the icing on the proverbial motherfucking cake, i held my puke down and managed to travel from queen street all the way to my next-next door neighbour's house (that's an hour's worth of public commute for all a'yous) before i unleashed the madness. i actually checked to see if my puke was still there, but i think last weekend's rain had washed away any remnants of the fries i chomped down that night. some might say "soft," but i'd like to think NOT.
i am gangsta' and i KNOW it.