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So in all terribleness, I’m getting back to this. Let’s see, I went to New York for a few days a while back. Had a fabulous time. Got rejected at a hip club, bough stuff in Soho, had Leslie drag me to Time Square. Watch the whole first season of Le Femme Nikita. Slept on a surprising comfortable floor. Have decided that I will indeed have a fabulous loft full of comfy furniture, with one huge violet walk in closet, with hangers for all my fabulous lingerie. And naturally, I will be able to shop at Agent Provocateur. I’ve been, as with all summer, working my ass off, and feeling pretty accomplished and like my education wasn’t a total waste. I’m actually looking forward to moving back up north, into my rockin house. This house entails a trip to IKEA, naturally. Now, if you have ever been to this haven of Scandinavian naked wood and fabulous foam, you understand my excitement. Because dahling…its beautiful furniture. And I’m getting a larger bed god damn it. No more falling out of bed hung over. And I’m getting a kitty. No doubt I will revel in cute pictures and stories once we adopt said kitten. I’m taking name suggestions. My baby HP notebook should be fixed as of Monday. Needless to say, mad crazy joy over getting it back. Ever doubted the possibility that family was put on this earth to test you? I’m going to be driving from Vancouver to Calgary with my mum and sisters. That’s like, 8 hours one way. Upon my return from the nation above, I’m interning with Hanger Prosthetics for a week. Not only am I driving to Ft. Worth at 7am, I’m not getting paid. And I think I’ll love it. Added bonus, marvelous Leslie will be in Big D then. No doubt a dent in my bank account and fun. Will love it, and you never know, I might get even tanner this summer. Although it sounds strange, I’m really surprised that I seem to have come out of Hockaday with one friend that I might have for life. Leslie and I seem to have to ability to go huge amounts of time without a huge amount of communication, then bounce right back to hanging out. And, well, that’s just really cool. Oh, and I’ve now fully encountered the realm of male immaturity. I got a blow off worse them the SATC post-it debacle. Simply put, some people need to stop whining, grow some, and stop acting like children. |
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dirty.
horny.