just chillin

like bob dylan.
sorry, that's got to be the oldest, lamest joke i've ever told.
okay, maybe not the lamest.
but close.

heading out to do a little shopping.
need some new shoes.
well, i don't suppose "need" has a whole lot to do with it.
i need a larger fucking closet is what i need.
the two downstairs bedrooms have nice sized walk-in closets.
the enormous-to-the-point-of-wasteful master bedroom?
crap ass little closet stuck under an eave.
fucking builder.
i would kick that guy's ass if i ever met him.
anyway.
new shoes it is.

last night was pretty fun and i'm not even hung over...much.
i feel like a broken record with my tales of drinking and hang overs.
shut up already, Lisa!
we don't care.

oh did i write the funniest thing that happened last night?
i don't think i did.
some old dude comes over to our table and says to "the girls"...
"I might need to get my eyes checked, but i do believe her hand is down your pants."
he then went on to ask if he could join in the fun.
which seemed to be an oddly recurring theme.
icky type men would try to impose themselves between the two girls--who were not interested.
it was kind of weird.
i suppose the whole night was kind of weird, but less so than last year when the same exact thing happened in the same exact bar with the same exact girls.
at least this year i was expecting it.

anyway, enough of that.

i really ought to go take a shower.
so i can head out and pick up a few groceries and shop for shoes.
we were supposed to get massages today, but hubby got a really bad sunburn from the tanning bed yesterday.
i feel bad for him, but i also have to laugh...
he went to a tanning bed, after all.... =)

wow what a boring, ridiculously mundane little post this was.
maybe i should take a moment and reflect on life or death or the mating habits of fruit bats.
maybe i should turn off the damn movie my husband isn't watching anymore cuz he fell asleep.
then i could think....
well, maybe.

okay.
quiet.
nothing but the whirring of the cpu fan.
cool that processor, bitch, that's right!

aw who am i kidding, no one reads this shit on the weekend anyway.
i could talk about all sorts of personal junk right now and none of you would ever know...
i could tell you how strange it is to be living such a different life than i once was, and how much better it is in so many ways.
i could tell you how much i miss my independence, my freedom.
i could tell you how much i miss living in a normal fucking place.
or how comfortable i've become with this place, as fucked up as it is.
i could tell you about the two best friends that i miss the most, and what i love about them.
i could tell you stories of boys i've loved and lost.
i could tell you how much i miss baking beautiful cakes and pies.
or how great it feels to fit into my old clothes, ones that haven't fit since before i got pregnant.
i could go on for hours about my golden childhood memories or the intense 3 dimensional fears i had of the dark.
i could tell you about the first time i had an orgasm, and the name i gave it, in my ignorance.
i could tell you how much i regret not having sex with the first boy i loved, even though i understand that it would have been devastating to my over-religious sweet little self at the time.
i could tell you how bad i used to be at managing my money, that my husband saved my ass.
i could tell you what it was like to grow up in a small town in a beautiful place and always want out.
i could tell you how the homesickness didn't even show its ugly head until i'd been here so long i was hating it.
i could tell you about that one summer, working as a chamber maid...and how we didn't always do a good job.
i could tell you about any or all of these things.
i could.

but i'm too lazy.
fuck it.
have a nice weekend.
and don't forget to floss.