I haven't had a fuck lot to write about lately. I don't really have a specific funny topic du jour so I'm just going to type a bunch of shit, you're gonna leave a bunch of comments, and we'll figure this blogging time out together, ok? Let's do this.
Today my gaybors saw me topless for the first time. At least I think it was the first time. I needed to take a walk down to the apartment complex office to pick up a package. To do this, I needed to put on clothes, pants and shoes so I don't look like a bum. I was in the bedroom and got on khakis, and a polka-dot bra and figured I'd throw on my boyfriend's hoodie that was in the entryway closet, that is right across from the balcony door-windows that face the apartment across the courtyard from mine. My gaybors love to go out at random times of the day and night and drink coffee or smoke in a bath robe. I figured "what are the odds they will be out right now? who cares." and walked into the living room to go get the hoodie. Well they were BOTH out there, so out of embarrassment, I jumped in the closet and put the hoodie on in there before I took the walk of shame out of a coat closet. Even though they're gay, I'm more embarrassed than if straight guys saw me. They have perfect tiny little gay boy bodies that they clearly work hard on, and I just know they were talking shit about seeing my flabby self throw my topless carcass into a coat closet. I mean, they knew I was in the closet, they have the same exact apartment as mine, only mirror-image. They knew how weird and awkward I was.
Someone is mad at me because I told their ex girlfriend that they were at a strip club. I don't even know why he cares or owes her an explanation or apology since they are broke the fuck up, but if you do things that you don't want other people finding out about it, you have two options: don't do shady shit in the first place, or make sure as shit that I don't find out about it. Angry girl news travels fast, yo. And I wasn't just outright gossiping about this dude's life to his ex... I was more venting to a "friend" (that guy's ex girlfriend) about my man-troubles. She's been flapping her gums about her breakup to me this whole time, you might think that it could be reciprocal, like friends are aught to do. The more I think about it though, the more I feel like she has just been using me as a point of contact to get info about her ex. Well that gravy train has left the station and ain't coming back no more. Time to shut that shit down.
In a related vein, if you ask me for advice or solace, maybe take it. I've been around life for a minute or two and have some experience in love live, relationships, make-ups and break-ups. Take my got damn advice and things might go right for you. Maybe if she would have listened to me in the first place when I said "I think you guys will get back together. Just stop texting and calling him for a while and make him miss you. Let him come to you on his terms." AKA stop annoying the shit out of him since you're broken up. Know what isn't included in my advice? Showing up at dude's house unannounced (two days after I gave the "leave him alone" advice) on a Saturday night trying to talk, texting and calling all the time, still acting like you're in a relationship when YOU. ARE. BROKEN. UP. Not taking dates with dudes because you are still operating on the assumption that you're in a relationship? Crazypants. Broken. Up. Go on with life. It is hard but jeez.
I keep making voice memos in my iPhone but I don't know how to find them. I think I have some good ideas chronicled in there but who knows. Or it could just be a short recording of me singing "Every Rose Has Its Thorn." The world may never know.
I will soon be taking up the craft of pysanky, the art of ornately decorated & dyed eggs. Wish me luck.
My boyfriend and I saw The Secret World of Arrietty and he cried.
Last week I tried to change my hair color from golden blonde to a darker blonde and that's not what happened. Here's my hair now: I put highlights in it after I dyed it blah-brown on accident
|That's me without makeup. Yikes.|
I can't wait to get some dental insurance and get these damn wisdom teeth out. They hurt like a bitch and I'd also like to try vicodin.
Welp, that's all I got on the brain right now. I bet this post has at least two incidences of pissing off my boyfriend.
Labels: advice, hair, my days, pills, why is this me