I think my head just ate itself.
Ow. Ow ow ow ow oooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwww.
I have to hold it so my brain won't fall out. Unfortunately, typing takes two hands, so I take breaks.
Maybe I'll try with one hand. This takes a lot longer.
Ow.
Isn't "ow" a funny word if you look at it a lot?
Wow. If you hold your eye and then take your fingers away you see funny shapes and blotches.
Why does the hard lemonade hate me, mommy?
If I press really hard on my temples and then put my pinky fingers on the sides of my nose, by my eyes, it doesn't hurt so bad. They should make a vice for this. The Hangover Head Grip.
And then when people saw you wearing it they'd say "Duuuuuuude, I know."
Why does my lower back hurt? And then why just the left side?
Oh god, it must've been the dancing. The dancing! Oh no, I was dancing to JLo. Oh, god.
Why do both Madonna and Lopez have a song serenading a DJ? Although JLo's isn't so much a serenade as it is a bitch. Play my mother f---ing song!
And the Texan was there and he was all "Do you have money?" when we went into Victory's, all ready to pay for me. (Victory's, y'all. I'm so ashamed. My one Columbus reader is shaking her head right now. I'm sorry. I am.) We had a long talk out on the fire escape. What is up with us having heart to hearts on porches? He's such a jag, seriously. He's a sweet guy and he makes me laugh, and he's fun to have as a friend, but thank LBFF I realized his jagginess early on. Because right now he's being a huge jag to this girl I like a lot, and who likes him a whole, whole lot, but he's "just not ready for a commitment right now." I was like - Look. Either you like her or you don't. If you don't, quit letting her think all you need is time. If you do, suck it up and take the risk already.
I need to quit starting my sentences with conjunctions.Because (ha!) it's getting to be a bad habit. That has nothing to do with anything.
The ibuprofen is working! Yay!
Oh sweet god I had wine. That's why! Damn you pinot gri... I have no idea how to spell that.
I want Burger King.
In college Pony and I would hit the King (except we never called it "the King." How pretentious is that?) whenever we were dying with the Morning Afters. Sometimes we'd pretend to study there. (What? BK was a big study joint at Miami - it stayed open later than the library and had fries.) It was impossible. But see, you could smoke and study. An attribute the library couldn't boast. Why do I keep straying from my story?
I'm in pain. That's my story.
The pain.
I left a really whiny message on Miranda's voicemail this morning (uh, afternoon). She and Mo were at the North Market! Getting food for dinner and being respectable, productive consumers. I was naked, sleeping on my bare mattress. That's no way to live. (Except maybe the naked part.)
I just had to leave last night, suddenly, like I have to go home. Luckily one of the guys lives close to us and gave us a ride home. He has a red Jeep! The back was flipped down and Mo was like "Oh, she doesn't need a backseat." R. just looked at her like, ohhhkay, as he flipped it back up for me. Those few blocks? Longest ride of my life, except that I don't really remember it.
And I couldn't find the right key to get in the house, and R. was yelling - It's little and silver! It's on your keychain! Put it in the lock and turn!
Ass.
At one point someone bought me a beer in a can (I don't drink out of cans) and I just looked at it, and sweet, sweet Reilly took the new can and my old bottle out of my hands and transferred the beer. Beer transference. I was like - Yay for Reilly! And he said - Tastes the same, doesn't it? (Except that it doesn't.) Whatever, it made me happy.Oh, I shouldn't have starting thinking about the beer.
Ow.
The notify suggests lots of water and Advil.
In the forum:
I had no dreams last night. Unless that lemondrop was a dream. Oh, please let it have been a dream.
Six Feet Under - it's on tonight, babies!