I have decided not to go to work tomorrow. Whatever! It's my hot Spring Break. I'll do what I want!

Worst South Park impression ever.

No, seriously. Ever.

So, the weekend. Actually, I'd like to direct your attention first to my wife's website where, for the time being, at least, you will find an adorable picture of two women kissing. And I think that's a beautiful thing. Not to mention the fact that I am one of those women.

So what am I doing with my time? Friday night, I partook in the mundane...the sitting around watching movies, playing video games kind of lifestyle. Kind of relaxing, I suppose.

By the way, is it me, or does anyone else get really pissed when the person you're hanging out with is too tired to stay awake because he/she was out until some god-awful hour the night before, even though you already had plans to hang out? Is that just me? Is it a girl thing?

My cat is currently trying to steal my lip gloss. Gay. Not only gay, but I think he might also be dealing with a Gender identity disorder.

Saturday, I had an absolute fucking blast. I lazed around in my pajamas until about 3 and finally washed my unclean body. I drove to Jordan's where I happened to catch him while he was "manscaping." Good times.

My God, that boy is metro.

Anyway.

We did some shopping, and I went with him to get a haircut. My real gay boyfriend then joined us for dinner. We parted again, and I returned to Jordan's only to clog his toilet. Nothing says bonding quite like standing up to your ankles with someone in your own pee water trying to plunge something loose from the toilet.

We once again met up with Matt, proceeded to drink, then went to a straight bar (hi! I went to a straight bar! I feel so young and hopeful and pathetic again!) and drank ourselves retarded. Good times.

The remainder of the evening, after a brief rest on the steps of some church downtown on our way back to Matt's, was spent taking care of a horrendously ill Jordan, and attempting to cajole him into getting off the floor so one of us could drive him home. In retrospect, that might not have been the best idea, considering that Matt I were both a bit goofy ourselves, and we were taking turns getting water, wiping him off...you know, the usual.

Yes, I am aware that I acquire far too much enjoyment out of these kinds of activities. Yes, I have a mommy complex. Yes, I'm okay with that.

I'd have to say that the highlight of the entire evening came when I was attempting to get our young drunken stud into bed, where, after stripping down to his skivvies, he bolted for the bathroom, yelling, "I've gotta shit!" and dropping trou right in front of me.

I wish I could tell you that I took the opportunity to check out the goods, but I was a little too preoccupied with trying to avoid being in the room where one of my best buds is having poo time right in front of me. There are lines you just don't cross, people.

So, today, we endured the walk of shame..."Sorry I threw up in your car...", "Sorry I was hitting on you...", "Sorry about putting my cigarette out in your drink...", "Sorry for the three way..."

Okay, maybe not that last one so much.

And then we all got some food and coffee and all was right with the world.

Also, I went to Casey's where he baked me a cake and we watched the Sopranos. And I ate. Again. Because that's what I do.

Also, my really weirdo lesbian stalker has this grand habit of calling me on the weekends at the god-awful hours of 9 or 10. Seriously, people. If you call me before noon on a weekend, somebody had better be dead. That's all I'm saying.

Also, I refuse to answer the phone when I'm still in bed. You think she'd take the hint.

Dammit, I really have to learn not to befriend crazy people. It never goes well.

Have you ever had this overwhelming urge to just shake things up a bit? Sometimes, I become obsessed with the idea of doing something, or saying something that is probably not conducive to any sort of growth, but that would add a new kink into my life. For me, even though the cerebral, logical side of myself is digging its heels into the ground, I become literally obsessed, consumed with the idea that I need to do (_______) - insert random drama-producing act here. Obsessed, people. Talk me out of it.

Fin.

My apologies and a farewell??? - 2005-10-20
It should be Friday somewhere. - 2005-10-03
It's Friday again! - 2005-10-01
Amendment to previous entry... - 2005-09-26
Longer than I intended. It's to tide you over for another week. - 2005-09-23