things i should be doing instead of building another hangover induced couch fort and watching law and order svu episodes before marcy and los come over and we make brownies:
+saving my apartment from the hellish mess devouring it at present. it was created by a merry band of spaghetti-and-meatball-eating friends who wound up at my place after another rowdy sunday at precinct for tiramisu and hookah and, apparently, leftovers. my kitchen is D E S T R O Y E D.
+picking out a green outfit for eighties st. paddy's dance party tomorrow evening at phoenix landing.
+taking a shower. i'm still wearing my makeup from last night and my hair looks ... interesting. that requires leaving the couch fort, though. hmmm.
+committing to memory the list of reasons why i never, ever need to go to southie ever again after going to the parade yesterday. as a local, i grew up with parents who forbade trips to southie for any reason whatsoever and who frowned upon the annual saint patrick's day parade because they deemed it an obnoxious, booze-soaked walk of shame perpetrated by good for nothins' and stupid college kids. my parents? kind of right. if i see one more wasted girl with flat-ironed hair, an oversized paul pierce/kevin garnett jersey, leggings and uggs, i'm going to vomit. on their uggs. on the green line. on the way back to suffolk/bu/bc. which is where they can be found in their natural habitat. ugh ugh ugh hate so much hate so much seething searing hate.
+cutting up my credit card. NO MORE SHOPPING FOR A LONG LONG LONG TIME. the stuff (headband, belt, dress and shirt) i picked up at urban today is grrrreat and completely unnecessary but i had to have them. a;sjdfal;sdjkf.
+getting coffee. 1369 please. the starbucks on somerville ave made me want to eat glass a couple of days ago and i haven't been back since: basically, the girl working the bar (read: making the drinks, putting them up on the counter for customers to collect 'em) was real bad at her job. i hate when people bitch and moan about food service ("how hard can it be? you work with coffee." "how long does it take to heat a croissant?" etc.) unless they, like myself, have actual food service/bartending/waitressing experience and they can tell the difference between someone who's awful at their job/lazy and someone who's slammed/unlucky/having a bad day. this girl was either stoned or lazy or both. laaaaaame.
+sending in my audition tape for rock of love four. jessie and i are going to romance bret michaels. (just kidding! we like/respect ourselves too much to do that, i think.)
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