Hoopla and the *happy dance*
Despite becoming quite sick from Thursday night onwards into Saturday afternoon, ish, the weekend I spent in Illinois was quite nice. Although because of sickness and prior engagements on their parts, I did not get to see as many people as I would have liked, which makes me wonder as to whether or not anyone really DOES miss me, but then I turn into an insecure whiny ball of blah and that definitely is not the type of human/blob I want to be.
In Sparknotes style, a recap of my weekend:
Thursday night: Enter Newark Int'l Airport 45 minutes before flight boards. Starbucks cash register down. Pay 2 dollars less for drinks because cashier couldn't give a rats patoot. Bitch about feeling like shit. Buy advil and some OJ. Bitch some more. Start reading Shopgirl. Plane is late. Board. Start to feel better. Am pissed because Cran-Apple Juice does not taste like what I thought it would. Read more Shopgirl. Plane lands. Finish Shopgirl. Baggage is at the wrong claim. Must run to other end of terminal. Wait for rental bus. Sit on it forever. Get to rental place. Wait for rental. Alamo sucks more dick than a two bit whore. Drive to my aunts. Pass out.
Friday: Wake up at 5am with a 100.7 degree fever, chills and aches. Feel like shit. Take more drugs, sleep. Wake up, feel youthful but sour. Sore throat. Can't ingest the 320948204983 chocolate frosted Krispy Kremes I want. Feel more like shit. Eat lunch with Courtney. Sleep more. Eat din with Courtney. Watch Shawshank. Sleep in the basement.
Saturday: Wake up at 10. Feel less like death warmed up and more like death stuck in a fridge. Am cold ALL THE TIME. Decide to take 4 capsules rather than two. Am dragged to large Woodfield mall, wherein I feel like an ass for wearing a cropped sweater when it's around 100 degrees out. Don't care. Carry orange massive clutch purse around. Accidentally smack my mother in the head with it. Am forced to try on suits to be "professional" which in my mother's case means "linebacker". Buy suits. Decide that tackling the interviewers is better than being demure. Go home. Get ready for party.
Saturday Night: Courtney shows up in a dress. I'm wearing a dress. Laughter. Family is nuts. Aunt Hillary and Mom do the conga line to Metrostation's Shake It. A little piece of me dies inside. Running late, jump in the car. Feeling better, decide to sing along to all the songs on the radio. Courtney wants to clobber me. We miss surprise because my aunt and uncle were early. Walk to banquet hall. Make beeline for the bar. Vodka Tonic #1. Watch slideshow of happiness. Vodka Tonic #2. Toast. Foods. Dancing. Vodka Tonic #3. Copious amounts of picture taking, awkward family groping and weird faces. Vodka Tonic #4. Dance to "We are Family" with my aunts and female cousins. More of me dies inside. Gyrate on the dance floor with Court until almost everyone has left the hall. Ask DJ to play Lollipop by Lil' Wayne for S and G's. He does. Meet the bartender, Kleo. He makes us the best drinks ever. Meet up with my cousin and her friend. Go to country bar next door. Amuse the bouncer with comments to Court. Meet Court's ex and his friends. Shooter shots. Talk talk talk. More shooter shots. Jaime meets us. More shooter shots. Watch the dancing. Look for my cousin. Chat to Mike on the phone stone cold schwastey face. Kleo joins us at the bar next door. More shooter shots. At some point I had a shot of Rumplemintz that my cousin's friend bought me. Did not realize how much I'd had until this little list was compiled. Time to leave. Dance with Courtney's ex to some country song. Leave with Court. Home at 3am.
Sunday morning brought on a hangover so foul...the headache still gets to me. Being back in the Jerz, where it's incredibly hot, still, isn't bad.
I found this little thing on Myspace as posted by my friend Shannon and wondered how much of my teenage life I really did f'up...
Body: How much of your life have you messed up?
[x] gotten kissed
[ ] gotten a phone taken away in class
[ ] gotten suspended
[x] gotten caught chewing gum
[ ] gotten caught cheating on a test
Total so far: 2
[ ] arrived late to class more than 5 times
[x ] didn't do homework over 5 times
[ ] turned at least 3 projects in late
[x] missed school just because you felt like it
[] laughed so loud you got kicked out of class
Total so far: 4
[x] got your mom, dad, etc to get you out of school
[x] text people during class
[x] passed notes
[x] threw stuff across the room
[x] laughed at the teacher
Total so far: 9
[x] been in a fight at school (fist, verbal)
[x] took pictures during school hours
[x]called someone during school hours
[x] listened to iPod, CD, etc during school hours
Total So Far: 13
[ ] threw something at the teacher
[] went outside the classroom without permission
[x] broke the dress code
[x] failed a class
[x] ate food during class
Total So Far: 16
[] gotten a call from school
[] couldn't go on a field trip cause you behaved badly
[x] didn't take your stuff to school
[ ] given a teacher the finger
[] swore during class loud enough so the teacher could hear you
Total So Far : 17
[x] faked your parents signature
[x] slept in class
[x] cursed at your teacher
[x] copied homework
[ ] got in trouble with the principal
total So Far: 20
Multiply by 3*
So that means I screwed up 60% of my teenage life. Sounds about right.
In Sparknotes style, a recap of my weekend:
Thursday night: Enter Newark Int'l Airport 45 minutes before flight boards. Starbucks cash register down. Pay 2 dollars less for drinks because cashier couldn't give a rats patoot. Bitch about feeling like shit. Buy advil and some OJ. Bitch some more. Start reading Shopgirl. Plane is late. Board. Start to feel better. Am pissed because Cran-Apple Juice does not taste like what I thought it would. Read more Shopgirl. Plane lands. Finish Shopgirl. Baggage is at the wrong claim. Must run to other end of terminal. Wait for rental bus. Sit on it forever. Get to rental place. Wait for rental. Alamo sucks more dick than a two bit whore. Drive to my aunts. Pass out.
Friday: Wake up at 5am with a 100.7 degree fever, chills and aches. Feel like shit. Take more drugs, sleep. Wake up, feel youthful but sour. Sore throat. Can't ingest the 320948204983 chocolate frosted Krispy Kremes I want. Feel more like shit. Eat lunch with Courtney. Sleep more. Eat din with Courtney. Watch Shawshank. Sleep in the basement.
Saturday: Wake up at 10. Feel less like death warmed up and more like death stuck in a fridge. Am cold ALL THE TIME. Decide to take 4 capsules rather than two. Am dragged to large Woodfield mall, wherein I feel like an ass for wearing a cropped sweater when it's around 100 degrees out. Don't care. Carry orange massive clutch purse around. Accidentally smack my mother in the head with it. Am forced to try on suits to be "professional" which in my mother's case means "linebacker". Buy suits. Decide that tackling the interviewers is better than being demure. Go home. Get ready for party.
Saturday Night: Courtney shows up in a dress. I'm wearing a dress. Laughter. Family is nuts. Aunt Hillary and Mom do the conga line to Metrostation's Shake It. A little piece of me dies inside. Running late, jump in the car. Feeling better, decide to sing along to all the songs on the radio. Courtney wants to clobber me. We miss surprise because my aunt and uncle were early. Walk to banquet hall. Make beeline for the bar. Vodka Tonic #1. Watch slideshow of happiness. Vodka Tonic #2. Toast. Foods. Dancing. Vodka Tonic #3. Copious amounts of picture taking, awkward family groping and weird faces. Vodka Tonic #4. Dance to "We are Family" with my aunts and female cousins. More of me dies inside. Gyrate on the dance floor with Court until almost everyone has left the hall. Ask DJ to play Lollipop by Lil' Wayne for S and G's. He does. Meet the bartender, Kleo. He makes us the best drinks ever. Meet up with my cousin and her friend. Go to country bar next door. Amuse the bouncer with comments to Court. Meet Court's ex and his friends. Shooter shots. Talk talk talk. More shooter shots. Jaime meets us. More shooter shots. Watch the dancing. Look for my cousin. Chat to Mike on the phone stone cold schwastey face. Kleo joins us at the bar next door. More shooter shots. At some point I had a shot of Rumplemintz that my cousin's friend bought me. Did not realize how much I'd had until this little list was compiled. Time to leave. Dance with Courtney's ex to some country song. Leave with Court. Home at 3am.
Sunday morning brought on a hangover so foul...the headache still gets to me. Being back in the Jerz, where it's incredibly hot, still, isn't bad.
I found this little thing on Myspace as posted by my friend Shannon and wondered how much of my teenage life I really did f'up...
Body: How much of your life have you messed up?
[x] gotten kissed
[ ] gotten a phone taken away in class
[ ] gotten suspended
[x] gotten caught chewing gum
[ ] gotten caught cheating on a test
Total so far: 2
[ ] arrived late to class more than 5 times
[x ] didn't do homework over 5 times
[ ] turned at least 3 projects in late
[x] missed school just because you felt like it
[] laughed so loud you got kicked out of class
Total so far: 4
[x] got your mom, dad, etc to get you out of school
[x] text people during class
[x] passed notes
[x] threw stuff across the room
[x] laughed at the teacher
Total so far: 9
[x] been in a fight at school (fist, verbal)
[x] took pictures during school hours
[x]called someone during school hours
[x] listened to iPod, CD, etc during school hours
Total So Far: 13
[ ] threw something at the teacher
[] went outside the classroom without permission
[x] broke the dress code
[x] failed a class
[x] ate food during class
Total So Far: 16
[] gotten a call from school
[] couldn't go on a field trip cause you behaved badly
[x] didn't take your stuff to school
[ ] given a teacher the finger
[] swore during class loud enough so the teacher could hear you
Total So Far : 17
[x] faked your parents signature
[x] slept in class
[x] cursed at your teacher
[x] copied homework
[ ] got in trouble with the principal
total So Far: 20
Multiply by 3*
So that means I screwed up 60% of my teenage life. Sounds about right.