9.06.2004
Holla!
GRE is just coming right up and it just keeps on coming and coming and getting closer and closer, like a Hummer with a big Billionnaires for Bush sticker speeding up Ponce de Leon. I kind of look at it from the curb like a practiced jaywalker and wonder whether I should pull the Bostonian - cross one lane, stand on the double line, cross the other lane, and how much do I really want to leave the Local and go to the Clairmont anyhow?
Anyways. I guess I should take 2 days off of work and all, and get some goddamned GRE books. And maybe rein in the social life for the next 10 days just to be safe.
In other news... the boy came back from Burning Womyn. Trust issues to the curb, its nice to have his dusty ass back in town. Spent saturday with his downstairs neighbor, we'll call him CIA. My skitzofrenic cousins stood me up for dinner, (I guess there was a fender bender at Publix followed by a road-rage inspired altercation?) so I invited CIA and Co. over to munch on my nice ginger-mango-salmon dinner. Afterwards we cruised around in his SUV, (we weren't dress code and anyways noone had cash for a cover) and I sat and giggled my ass off while they holla'd at the 'hos' and accused each other of looking for boo-material (ice cold, ice cold) and bitched about george bush. At the end of the night it got really precious... talking about whether they'd ever been licked THERE and whether they'd ever done THAT and...
Always fun to be a fly on the wall on a boys night out and listen to their ridiculous ideas about women. They were shocked when I told them they yes, sometimes a girl does go out at night to get laid, and she's not always the one in the backless pink number with the matching stilletos. And their primary qualifications for boo-material were: intelligent, beautiful, strong, and organized. Organized? Why organized? Funny how they had no clue who the cool girls were. They were just trying and trying and trying for some sort of recognition, a number, a smile, ANYTHING, and (that I saw) happened to talk to 2 worthwhile girls the whole night. And they didn't even recognize which girls were cool/quality/real people and which were not.
Alright. I'm gonna do some work or go get a drink, one or the other.
Anyways. I guess I should take 2 days off of work and all, and get some goddamned GRE books. And maybe rein in the social life for the next 10 days just to be safe.
In other news... the boy came back from Burning Womyn. Trust issues to the curb, its nice to have his dusty ass back in town. Spent saturday with his downstairs neighbor, we'll call him CIA. My skitzofrenic cousins stood me up for dinner, (I guess there was a fender bender at Publix followed by a road-rage inspired altercation?) so I invited CIA and Co. over to munch on my nice ginger-mango-salmon dinner. Afterwards we cruised around in his SUV, (we weren't dress code and anyways noone had cash for a cover) and I sat and giggled my ass off while they holla'd at the 'hos' and accused each other of looking for boo-material (ice cold, ice cold) and bitched about george bush. At the end of the night it got really precious... talking about whether they'd ever been licked THERE and whether they'd ever done THAT and...
Always fun to be a fly on the wall on a boys night out and listen to their ridiculous ideas about women. They were shocked when I told them they yes, sometimes a girl does go out at night to get laid, and she's not always the one in the backless pink number with the matching stilletos. And their primary qualifications for boo-material were: intelligent, beautiful, strong, and organized. Organized? Why organized? Funny how they had no clue who the cool girls were. They were just trying and trying and trying for some sort of recognition, a number, a smile, ANYTHING, and (that I saw) happened to talk to 2 worthwhile girls the whole night. And they didn't even recognize which girls were cool/quality/real people and which were not.
Alright. I'm gonna do some work or go get a drink, one or the other.
