my only vacation this summer
- train up to Roisin’s, reading Little Brother by Cory Doctorow
- Trish and Phelim and Luca, oh my!
- trains trains trains tiny trains
- “OH MY GOD Titanic is on.” “We can’t.” “We can’t.”
- porch sitting
- Owen asks us to write his AP paper
- we know even less than he does
- so much Degrassi
- (sleep, Sunday becomes Monday)
- Victorious and KITTENS while Brosheen went to a quick appointment (judge me, go ahead)
- okay so mostly floating
- but still
- we were in a pool for at least an hour
- pizza nommmmm
- porch sitting
- train back home reading more of Little Brother
texts I send to Brosheen late at night:
me: […] said Panic Girlfriend is 65% likely to only score as Mildly Attractive. But 35% likely to be more than mildly attractive! Heyyyyyyyyyy.
Brosheen: And 100% going to be a from the box blonde.
me: [names as evidence] so 4 out of 7 in the category of “girls I dated or slept with and seriously wanted to date even if I wouldn’t admit it at the time” were not from the box blondes. But 5 of 7 in said category were a blonde of some sort during at least part of our period of dating and/or dalliances.
But really Roisin is probably going to win that bet because let’s be honest, when panicking because I’m leaving alone in a brand new city, my first instinct will likely be to cling to the nearest pretty blonde with boobs.
And then Roisin will sweep in and tell me to stop it, because said blonde Panic Girlfriend will not be an interesting, worthy person and that’s where this whole conversation started in the first place, me giving her permission to come knock some sense into me.
- woke up to strangers in my apartment because the landlord failed to notify me that he was showing the place to potential renters today… hope they liked my racks of drying underthings in the living room, the remaining stack of dishes that needs to be washed, the various extensions scattered on the bathroom sink and the pile of clothing on the bedroom floor from when I was trying to find something to wear yesterday
- thanked every deity ever that I had gotten chilly in the night and pulled up the covers, otherwise they would have seen me in nothing but a pair of neon undies and I can only handle so much unexpected invasion of privacy
- decided I needed new pillowcases because all of mine have mascara stains
- took my broken magsafe charger to the apple store expecting to shell out $80 for a new one, but the guy helping me just brought a new one out of the back, took it out of the box and handed it to me, saying “have a great day!”
- theorized that he gave it to me because, as he said, my pacing while waiting for the appointment (30 minutes after scheduled, I mean, come on) made him anxious
- venti black tea lemonade, light ice, half sweetened!
- ran into Alex at Starbucks, I miss seeing her all the time
- phone call to my father, explained that I was walking around town because it was just as hot outside as it is in my top floor apartment, so I might as well enjoy some wind and people-watching
- bought cigarettes from the guy I swear is ALWAYS working when I go to that CVS, no matter what time it is
- tried to find black-on-black plimsolls at WalMart and Target, failed
- found new pillowcases at Target and marveled at all the cool string lights (mini floral lanterns omg!) in the college section
- marveled at the fact that “college” is in the past because somehow in my head grad school is different (although it may not be, since I’m living in university housing unless something goes wrong)
- bought Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman at B&N, joked with the cashier about retail solidarity and how when we say we’re “great!” to customers we really mean “exhausted and probably hungry” and then he said “allons-y” as I was leaving which Roisin agreed probably means he’s a Whovian
“that sentence is a very crude awakening to my hypothesized but probably will never happen baby”
- Brosheen ambien texts
Today Roisin came over for a zillion hours and we ate so much food and spent forever trying to find remixes of Call Me Maybe and Robin Sparkles and scrolling the gaystew tag and now I feel like a person again.
me: Pico’s just not a lap kitty. It’s okay.
Róisín: We will train him to be.
me: Right now I’m training him to like Corrie. Before that was Skins. Next I might do Torchwood. Maybe he’ll be a cat with a British accent?
Róisín: OMG CATS MEOWING IN A BRITISH ACCENT
me: CATS MEOWING IN A WELSH ACCENT