Slip

I saw a friend walk by in the halls today. In my mind, I thought, "I'll call him bro! No, wait, I'll call him homie! Wait, no, bro! No no, homie!"

What came out: "Hey, homo!"

...My brain and my mouth should really get to know each other sometime.

And it's not even Friday the 13th

I woke up today with a start and a plan. I had planned out my whole day, and it was going to be GOOD! I was going to wear my favorite outfit and look cute and kick ass and take names and ace a test. Well, the universe obviously heard me thinking this way and went "lol, no."

Here is what made my day such utter shit:
-I had cramps the whole day. Just imagine them in the background of the rest of this stuff.

-Circling the parking lot for HALF AN HOUR looking for a spot. All because one of my friends wanted Burger King. SEE IF I EVER GET YOU CHICKEN FRIES AGAIN.

-When I did get a spot, it was fifteen rows back.

-After classes, I trudged to my car. And did a double-take. Because you know what? My front right wheel cover was missing. It was off. It was NOT off when I left the car. So it'd been stolen. Yep! SOMEONE STOLE MY FUCKING WHEEL COVER.

-The commute home took almost twice as long as normal, due to pouring rain and stopped traffic. On a side street. Because there was a big truck moving from one driveway to another. And all the drivers behind me got mad and I didn't even know what was going on! SHUT UP, OTHER DRIVERS. :|

-I got home and was advised to chill. So I lay on a couch and watched my brother play Saints Row. But the couch is old and gave me a splinter. A huge one. A big ol' chunk of wood in my finger. Naturally, I wanted the thing out, so I went upstairs to the bathroom and pried it from my hand.

-On the way back from the bathroom, I slipped and fell down the stairs.

After all that, I deigned to lay down and not move ever again.

(My terrible day, however, turned AWESOME because I found a recording of the entire Decemberists show that I just attended in NYC.)

Can I pick 'em or what

The scene: Concert Choir rehearsal. Our Heroine (hereafter referred to as Alto)'s nose itches, so she casually scratches it in what she believed was an inconspicuous fashion. A minute or so later, she looks over to the basses section and catches the eye of her beau (hereafter referred to as Bass).

Bass: I saw you.

Alto: Saw me what?

Bass touches his nose.

Alto: Uh, whatever.

Bass mimes shoving his finger up his nose.

Alto sputters furiously.

The Conductor asks for quiet.

"Pick me a winner," mouths Bass.

Alto glares.

Bass pretends to pick his nose again, yet much more violently, then grins.

Alto: You're an asshole.

Bass: You're adorable!

Alto shoots an even nastier glare at Bass.

....
Choir goes on. Alto watches as the entire bass and tenor sections simultaneously jizz in their pants over a soprano's solo. After practice is over:

Bass: Hey, hot stuff.

Alto, still miffed over the nose thing, says "So, you want to powerfuck that soprano, huh?"

Bass: Dude, anything with a penis wants to fuck that soprano. But don't worry, it's SNOT a problem.

Alto:....

Bass gives Alto a huge, huge grin.

Alto: /facepalm.

SCENE.

Whining

Every time I think, "I miss my boyfriend!", I slap myself. Mentally. For some reason, I've got the notion in my head that it's not okay for me to miss him. Because we've only been going out for two weeks.

(Well, one week. And six days. But who's counting?)

Why have I convinced myself that it's wrong to think of him? Probably because I think I'm coming on too strong. And if he KNEW I think like this, well, god, he'd just dump me right away, wouldn't he? For being too clingy!

Yes. Because my boyfriend can read my thoughts.

And also? HE CAN READ MY BLOG.

/mental slap