7:35 p.m. - 2004-06-30
drink bacardi, like it's your birfday
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KAREN!!!!
I miss you, I love you, and I wish I was there to celebrate with you!
(I'm totally having a couple of beers in your honour tonight)
Oh...and try to take it one bottle at a time...
Cheers!
11:01 a.m. - 2004-06-29
damn red sock!
The funniest thing in the world happened to me last night � I had a movie moment. You know those moments in time, those clich�d situations, that you think only happen in the movies or on TV. One of those.
I heard the people who live above me having sex.
I don�t think I could ever adequately describe to you the smile that came to my face when I realized what the grunts coming from my ceiling were really all about. I was reading at the time, which was fortunate for the silence, I might never had this little experience otherwise. It was mostly the woman I heard(�oh Oh OH OOOOOOOOOH!�), just a couple of tough groans from the lad, and it didn�t last very long, I can only assume they were reaching their�ahem�climax when I got wind of their escapades.
I listened intently for a long time. I might have felt like a pervert, but it was just too funny for me not to! When I couldn�t hold it in any longer, I giggled so much I thought I might be regressing into childhood. I have a feeling I�m not going to be able to get those cries of passion out of my head for quite some time, along with one other thought: God, I hope I don�t sound like that when I�m having sex.
Thinking about it, that's not the only movie moment I've had since I arrived in London. I'll not go into too much detail, suffice it to say that I'm going to have get used to pink socks and undies for a little while.
3:59 p.m. - 2004-06-27
you know you're getting old when...
In the past three weeks, I have experienced two extremely disturbing phenomenon which have left me with one conclusion: that I am, in fact, getting old.
The first was a dark, stray hair sticking out of my nose. I�m sorry, but when exactly did I turn into my grandfather? Hairs should not be protruding from my nose until I�m at least 40 and even then should have the decency to creep out on only the rarest occasion. I realize that I do not have a small, cute button nose, but I don�t think that�s any excuse for it to hide its shame in some sort of weird nasal comb-over. As I plucked the errant hair from its home, I had a frightening image of my middle-aged self � a pathetic freak show of a woman, with not-so-small tufts of hair sticking out of her every orifice. Even the Bearded Lady would look at me, shake her head and tell herself �Well, things could be worse.� Thank God for tweezers.
The second occurrence was actually quite similar, although this time I was spared the convenience of finding it myself � a grey hair. I went to the hairdresser yesterday with not a care in the world, and left feeling like a hag. What kind of psycho, mind-f*cking dickhead of a hairdresser announces to his customer that he�s found a grey hair? One that doesn�t like receiving tips, is my guess. My older brother began getting grey hairs when he was in his mid-twenties and I made a lot of fun of him for it. Now I figure I�m in trouble. Men at least have the advantage of looking �distinguished�. Women, on the other hand, simply look Old.
And so there you have, I figure I am now over the hill and on my down. Just around the corner are crows feet, laugh lines, sagging boobs, varicose veins and an assortment of other pleasant proofs of aging. I can see my future and its currently weighing the pros and cons of plastic surgery.
