First of all; thank God for Adam Vinatieri, Tom Brady and the Pats. I now have a very happy E. I was getting unnecessarily agitated during the last few minutes of the fourth quarter. But Vinatieri came through for me, once again, banishing the fear that my Boy's team would lose and add to all that Sox disappointment that good boys from Boston carry with them throughout the year.
Right now... I am busy stealing music again. Shame on me. I'm also busy recovering from my decidedly uneventful, yet super-emotional weekend with D. The trick, really, is to NOT spend over 36 straight hours together. At four on Friday I left the city to go with him to get the Burberry suit my daddy gave him tailored. We then proceeded to eat at the sweetest little Italian place. The waitresses were all skinny, adorable 16 year-olds, you know the type... They're completely unassuming because they're so young, but you know your guy is still checking out their assets. Trying to stifle jealousy, I shoveled in some rather terrible chicken parmigiana, D and I agreed to order pizza next time. Then we made the mistake of drinking half a liter of rum each and ended up dancing around the living room to that stupid "Milkshake" song. Interestingly enough there seems to be at least another hour or two to the story... Too bad I can't remember what the hell happened. Check with D if you want to know the embarrassing details, but I heard there was a glass of water dumped on someone, and then there was a fight.... Eh... Spent most of Saturday too hungover to move off the couch. So in the middle of a snowstorm when we finally got sober enough to drive we went back to the city to my place. This could only end in disaster... Which struck at two a.m. when E drunk-dialed me and D got mad. This caused a nasty chain of events which ended with me on the couch til 4 a.m. watching "French Kiss." No Meg Ryan movies should be allowed when you are fighting with the boy (or one of the boys, rather) that you love. Things seemed to be smoothed over this morning at least, we went to breakfast then returned to his place to get my car. We just got off the phone a few minutes ago and things seem slightly tender still, but I think wounds are healing nicely. The bottom line apparently, is:
D and I are raging binge drinkers who need serious professional help.
Spent the rest of the day at my parents house, then back here to the city... I hate to admit this, because it reveals how trite my taste can be, but I really like Hilary Duff. Sure she makes you wanna puke your guts out how sweet she is but man, those songs get stuck in your head like crazy. Same with Britney. I'm a fan. And worst of all... I think I actually LIKE Jessica Simpson. Like, as a person. Yuck. Now don't get me wrong, none of this changes my love for all of the real artists that I'm crazy about. I mean nothing beats clever lyrics and masterful songwriting. But I think I just allowed myself to think its ok to like those shallow blondes too... Probably because there's some of them in me... I asked B the other day where the Grand Canyon was. I asked, because I honestly didn't know. Hey Jessica... do you?
Right now... I am busy stealing music again. Shame on me. I'm also busy recovering from my decidedly uneventful, yet super-emotional weekend with D. The trick, really, is to NOT spend over 36 straight hours together. At four on Friday I left the city to go with him to get the Burberry suit my daddy gave him tailored. We then proceeded to eat at the sweetest little Italian place. The waitresses were all skinny, adorable 16 year-olds, you know the type... They're completely unassuming because they're so young, but you know your guy is still checking out their assets. Trying to stifle jealousy, I shoveled in some rather terrible chicken parmigiana, D and I agreed to order pizza next time. Then we made the mistake of drinking half a liter of rum each and ended up dancing around the living room to that stupid "Milkshake" song. Interestingly enough there seems to be at least another hour or two to the story... Too bad I can't remember what the hell happened. Check with D if you want to know the embarrassing details, but I heard there was a glass of water dumped on someone, and then there was a fight.... Eh... Spent most of Saturday too hungover to move off the couch. So in the middle of a snowstorm when we finally got sober enough to drive we went back to the city to my place. This could only end in disaster... Which struck at two a.m. when E drunk-dialed me and D got mad. This caused a nasty chain of events which ended with me on the couch til 4 a.m. watching "French Kiss." No Meg Ryan movies should be allowed when you are fighting with the boy (or one of the boys, rather) that you love. Things seemed to be smoothed over this morning at least, we went to breakfast then returned to his place to get my car. We just got off the phone a few minutes ago and things seem slightly tender still, but I think wounds are healing nicely. The bottom line apparently, is:
D and I are raging binge drinkers who need serious professional help.
Spent the rest of the day at my parents house, then back here to the city... I hate to admit this, because it reveals how trite my taste can be, but I really like Hilary Duff. Sure she makes you wanna puke your guts out how sweet she is but man, those songs get stuck in your head like crazy. Same with Britney. I'm a fan. And worst of all... I think I actually LIKE Jessica Simpson. Like, as a person. Yuck. Now don't get me wrong, none of this changes my love for all of the real artists that I'm crazy about. I mean nothing beats clever lyrics and masterful songwriting. But I think I just allowed myself to think its ok to like those shallow blondes too... Probably because there's some of them in me... I asked B the other day where the Grand Canyon was. I asked, because I honestly didn't know. Hey Jessica... do you?
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