The very first though that popped into my head this morning, strangely, was, "I wonder if I could call in to work if I said I was temporarily blind?" I don't know why I would ever think this would make a valid excuse, but it was a thought.
I spent three hours of my workday yesterday perusing everything that IKEA has to offer. Aaron's mum will be in this weekend and has offered to treat us to some cheap furniture in exchange for being such delightful kids. And it's Aaron's birthday on Tuesday. So far, for his birthday, I have purchased one (1) Gillette m3 power razor, one (1) Ben Sherman belt, and one (1) fuzzy monster gift bag. We will be purchasing an X-Box this weekend and I will also be surprising him with one (1) pair of Adidas classic-style shoes. I'm not sure if I'll be surprising him with, "Open your present, hey, shoes!" or with "Look, a Foot Locker, let's get you some shoes, surprise!" because I'm not sure I'll be able to find the style he has so subtly been jonesing for over the past month.
So excited about his birthday is he that he offered to celebrate my birthday next weekend so that I can share in the joy. I declined, offering instead to actually put forth some effort to celebrate my birthday this year with, instead of the requisite shot of Chambord with whipped cream and a cherry on top, a Long Island Iced Tea, and a short trip to the bathroom to vomit it all up, a ski trip to Mt Shasta.
For the past two years, the years that Aaron has lived away from his hometown friends and family during his birthday, Aaron's mum has come out from Illinois to join in the festivities. Last year, we took a trip to Vancouver. This year, of course, it's all about the East Palo Alto IKEA. Two years ago for my 19th birthday, both of my parents forgot to call and wish me a happy day. Last year, I received polite phone calls. Both years, I received gifts -- practical ones from my dad, like pots and pans and towels (per my request), and monetary ones from my mom (per my request).
This year, I will be turning 21, thought I have been 21 on plastic since I was 19. I don't like my birthday. I have cried on my birthday every day since I was 15. I guess it's about time I grew up. Thus, I will be spending Christmas with my mom and my birthday at the ski hill (since my birthday is December 29).
I didn't mean for this to be all about birthdays. Abrubt subject change ahoy!
Somehow, every morning, I manage to have little mental breakdowns that usually involve me looking at the clock, realizing I have missed the first bus and am still topless, frantically throwing clothes everywhere searching for a semi-decent shirt, getting really pissed off that I can't find one and ripping things off walls and throwing tables and chairs out the window, yelling at Aaron to clean it up and that HE SUCKS!!!!11111, running out the door with one eye mascara'd, one shoe half on, jabbing the elevator button (since everyone knows that the elevator moves faster depending on how hard and often you press its button -- kind of like people), running down the street to the bus stop, lighting a cigarette, taking three puffs, climbing onto the bus, finding a seat, taking out my book, and then yawning for twenty minutes straight.
By the time I get to work and have smoked a whole cigarette, I am generally in a great mood. I recommend this to everyone, but only if you have an understanding significant other to clean up after you.
You know what's cute? When you put on your super pointy-toed pink heels and your boyfriend says, "Where do your toes go?" That's cute.
I am immensely hormonal right now.
D'ya know what makes me so happy? The Libertines. I don't know what it is about those infectious, angsty melodies, but they put me in the best mood.
one year ago today: "i am categorically opposed to corporate philanthrophy -- have i mentioned this before? -- and i am superbly pissed off."
two years ago today: nothin.
three years ago today: "Esp and I went out and the most exciting thing that occured was running through the Caldwell Park sprinklers in our underwear. Quite rejuvenating." and "I'm watching Baywatch and this kid is crying and saying, 'Why does my dad have to be a dwarf??' The saddest part? I've seen this episode before."