My goodness. I never did realize how completely reliant I am on the internet. See, I have been quite the insomniac lately. I don't know if it stress or illness or a greater problem, but I have not been able to sleep well or for very long. I am worn down. Used up. Tossed out. So when it crept towards 7:30 this morning, I was up, only able to get 2 and a half hours of sleep the night before (thanks for running Welcome To The Dollhouse at 3am, Showtime!) I about cried when I had to tear myself away from my satin pillows and jersey-knit sheets. I dragged my toukas in here, almost on time, and plopped in front of my computer, bleary-eyed but eager to check my e-mail.
The server is down. No internet! No AIM! No Outlook e-mail! So I almost cried again. For the second time in a one hour span and before 10am. Not starting today off well, folks. By the time I get to post this, who the hell knows what state I will be in. I can only play Solitaire and listen to iTunes. There is no work to do yet. That's when the internet comes in handy. Someone just came by my office and relayed that a tech guy has to come hook us back up. Who knows how long that will take! I can't even write today. Creativity and wit zapped. I am hoping this cola will kick in soon and get me through these next 6 hours.
Ok, now it is 2:26 pm. How much damn Solitaire can I play anyway? That Internet Explorer icon is just taunting me. I can't even post this. And why should I? It is inane drivel.
Ok, now it is Wednesday. You might have think I have flown the Diaryland coop. But I am still here, goin' strong. Can't nobody breaka my stride, can't nobody hold me down. Oh no. I got to keep on movin'.
Internet back up. Now I can upload pictures from nearly a week ago and actually post a friggin entry. I can also check out how bad rottentomatoes.com bagged on Alex and Emma. I got the movie through Netflix last week, watched it Monday night and about yakked at its complete awfulness. Luke Wilson. Kate Hudson. Rob Reiner. Pure Gold? Hell no! That movie was so bad I would not even feed it to my dog.
So the highlight of the past week was Thursday night. Why? Because was with a great group of people and my school's bar drinking $1 you-call-its. Can't beat that. As my friend Alex would say, I got super duper fucked up. Getting super duper fucked up used to be the mark of a great night last year. Now it is just an added bonus. The mark of a great night to me is not spending much money and being able to sit and talk and laugh with my favorite people. I am getting old. As long as I get a seat, I am happy.
Why do Thursdays end up being so much more fun than Fridays? What the hell? The night I should be staying in and conserving energy for the weekend and the next workday, I am ever so antsy to get out and drink. Then when Friday rolls around, I am so worn out, all I want to do is stay in a sleep. Ever noticed that the older you get, the less you care about going out on Fridays?
So here are some pictures from last Thursday. The general theme is either me scrunching up my face or sticking my finger in my mouth. I thought I got over posing like that in college. Apparently not.
Mike and me in the kitchen before departure
Julie and I just before things got ugly. On the way to the bar, we decided to tell everyone Julie was Mike's lesbian twin sister, Natalie. Why? Because we are easily amused. It is also fun to lie to people you love. Plus, guys love lesbians.
Here come my signature finger sucking pictures. I can't tell you how many I have of these from college. I don't know what possesses me. Could it be... SATAN?!?!?
Fueling the fire. Notice the expressions of the gentleman behind us. Priceless.
At least I got the position correct
I like this picture. It combines sexuality with my two favorite things (besides complex carbohydrates) PURDUE and THE CUBS
"Natalie", Captain Scrunchy-Face and a Swedish Supermodel
What am I doing? Stop it, bitch! It's ugly and unnecessary!
It was cool to hang with Alex and Rob. I miss my dorm boys. Wake up, Rob!
As for the weekend, nothing spectacular. Friday sucked ass. Walked home a mile and a half in high heels at 2am. Got harassed, which I welcome, because the second I stop getting catcalled, it will be time to throw in the towel. Saturday was a touristy excursion to Navy Pier and a jaunt around the loop for the benefit of Julie's out of town friends. Then we went to a lame party. I was in a rotten mood. But we did get to watch midget porn. That was hot, and sadly the highlight of the night. I don't even want to delve into Sunday. The night was nice. A very sweet boy came over and we got groceries and I cooked it up for us. I am a damn fine cook if I do say so myself. I am going to make some man very miserable someday.