Tuesday, October 18, 2011

This is Why They Shouldn't Make Me Work Overnight

I just walked into the bowels of the hotel, it was completely silent. Out of no where the damn ice machine drops the ice in and scares the fuckin’ bejeezus outta me! So, now I’m super aware of every noise and psyching myself out about all the scary shit that’s probably haunting the hell out of this hotel (I read A LOT of Stephen King and Jack Kilborne, those sick bastards). THANKS, FUCKER.

In (mostly) unrelated news, I logged on to MySpace tonight. It was horrifying. It made me feel old. The comments couldn’t even tell me a date, they just said things like ‘5 years ago’ holy shit snacks! When did 5 years of my life go by? For that matter, why the hell am I not still in high school? My brain is sobbing uncontrollably in a corner of my skull. I am most baffled by what my group of friends and I are actually doing as opposed to what we all thought we’d be doing/what I thought everyone would be doing. I look at the people I used go to the movies with (dropped off AND picked up by my parents in their minivan) and just wonder how we would up doing what we’re doing. It boggles my mind. I’ll include a table I made to illustrate it for myself at the end of this post so that you don’t have to hang around for it if you couldn’t care less.

In ‘unrelated to either of the above unrelated things’ news, I found something else I hate today. I know all I do is bitch on this blog, but I think it’s what makes me endearing; or at least lets you feel better about yourself. I was at Olive Garden with Killa, she was being subjected to my endless story (I wrote it out, y’all. It was 6 pages, she never had a chance) about my weekend (she was charged with helping me analyze it, obvs). So, we’re about half way through when they sit a couple at the next table over (reason #843562 why booths are superior). Nbd, right? Yeah, except they sat on the SAME side of the table, the side facing me. Why do people insist on doing this? You aren’t proving anything to me. I don’t think you’re more in love because you can’t bear to have even a table between you. Honestly, I’m creeped out, and so is everyone else, by the fact that now you’re both staring us down while shoving pasta in your pie hole. Also, it’s impossible to talk to someone when they’re sitting directly next to you and you’re trying to eat. I can’t even grasp the appeal. If anyone can justify it in a way that doesn’t make it sound inconvenient and unpleasant, they get a dollar. True story, I will mail you a dollar if you can make it sound like something I’d ever wanna do.

Here’s the table I made. E! THS style. No one will be amused by it unless they know me and my friends (hi, mom!) but I went through all the trouble of making it so now the internet just needs to shut up and TAKE IT. Names have been changed to protect me.

The Pretty One
My best friend. Eating too much Chinese food and falling asleep. Talking about shit we had no clue about. Writing fan fiction about upperclassmen. Being awesome.
My best friend. Living in NYC. Being amazing at singing. Not seeing me enough. Talking about shit we have vague knowledge of. Being awesome.
My boyfriend. Having a terrible haircut. Playing tuba. Stocking dairy. Keeping the peace between Eye Candy and I. Being awesome.
Submariner in the Navy. Having a better haircut. Kicking ass. Taking names. Getting drunk. Still close with me. Being awesome.
Inexplicably hanging with us. Being made, via doodles, into everything on earth. Getting in trouble in 10th grade Biology with me. Being awesome.
Got fat. Doesn’t talk to the gang anymore. No longer being awesome.
Fat Ass
Not actually fat. In guard with me. Inappropriately touching, and being touched by, me. Eating a shit ton and not gaining any weight. Being awesome.
Not actually fat. Lives in the same city as me. Almost a Chemist. Eating a shit ton and not gaining any weight. Dating an Asian. Being kinda awesome.
Eye Candy
Semen’s best friend. Alternately loving and hating my existence. Being pursued by multiple 18 year old women. Being alternately loved and hated by me. Being awesome, most of the time.
Semen’s best friend. My friend too now. Loving my existence. Having his existence loved by me. Living the dream. Being pursued by multiple 18 year old women. Being awesome, more of the time.
Being drum major. Overachieving. In guard with me. Spending too much time at Starbucks with me. Making cat noises excessively. Being awesome.
Lives with me. Still overachieving. Still making lots of cat noises. Not seeing me nearly enough. Being marginally less awesome.
Invisible Man
Writing a book. Getting in trouble in 10th grade Biology with me. Drawing Specs as random objects. Impossible to find when not at school. Playing tuba. Being awesome
Engaged. In the Navy. Still being impossible to find/get a hold of. Being awesome.
The Pretty One’s boyfriend. Making inappropriate comments in a Baptist school. Playing Gaston. Super hairy. Being sorta awesome.
Married. Still hairy. Don’t know anything else. Not awesome.

1 comment:

  1. I really fucking enjoy this post, especially the chart you have describing people hahaha. Super hilarious. I went back on Myspace recently too, I can't believe I had a boyfriend during that god awful time period.