Not a fan of December. AT ALL.
Why? Isn't it supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year? For some, sure, but for me, December outright blows. It is saccharine, superficial, and a huge drain on the wallet. There is so much pressure to attend a bunch of parties, find the perfect present and for me at least, pretend not to care that no one gives a crap about my birthday. Now, I have heard the same complaints from people I know born around this time of year. Everyone is all shopped out, wallets are tighter and people have much more important obligations than to celebrate your birthday. I have never had a great birthday. One of my best friends was born around the same time I was, so we make a fuss over each other, but that is about it. And in this fiscal year where I have spent more than I have saved, the thought of having to buy other people presents, especially for a new boyfriend that I have no clue how to shop for, is seriously stressing me out. Plus, I have been packing on the pounds again. Damn those fuckers that buy the cookies and donuts and bring them to the office. Who the hell do they thing they are?!?!
The weekend was just aight. On Friday, I was disgustingly domestic and stayed in with the man. We got a nice little dinner and then watched my taped O.C. Then we both fell asleep at 10:30, only to wake up in a panic at 2am, since he had to go home due to having the ungodly obligation of working at 6am the next morning. 2 of the roommates and the absent roommate's girlfriend gathered our strength and walked to the local Quikee Mart where Apu and Mohammed sold us overpriced breakfast goods and cock-tease lottery tickets. Hey, you won $2? Buy another ticket! Shit, now you lost? Idiot. It blows when you have to pay for convenience. Sure, it's great that there is a place to buy food half a block away, but it sure sucks that a gallon of OJ cost $4.50. You flippin' schiesters!
We proceeded to make a HUGE mess in the kitchen and living room that is, as of right now, still untouched. I plan on not going home tonight just to avoid said mess.
I wallowed around like a hippo stuck in a mud pit the rest of the day until I geared up to go out on the town that night. I met some girlfriends at this chi chi bar around 9pm, where I proceeded to witness all the girls getting hit on while I sat in the dark shadows of our booth. Normally, I'd have been over to the guys table next to us, flirting my ass off, but since I am currently a kept woman, I just watched and laughed at the sheer stupidity of the men vying for my pretty friend's attention. Yeah buddy, girls love it when you dry hump them from behind. That's hot! I counted the minutes until the boy came to pick me up. We were going to go out, but I decided the buzz from the sangria would best be put to use in a horizontal state.
In an unprecedented move, the boy spent all night and the following day with me. We took the all-important step of voyaging to my hometown so he could meet my parents and see where I grew up. On a sad note, my cat (well my parents took him in and loved him more than I ever could of) is probably being put to sleep as I type this. He is recently developed cancer and it is spreading rapidly. He is in a lot of pain and my mother couldn't put him through it anymore. I wanted to see him, pet him one last time and say goodbye. My poor father. He is so attached to Goofy. They were homeboys, my father's only male connection in that house. He talked to Goofy more than he talked to my mother. So, so long Gufasa. I loved and will miss you.
I am so grateful that he took me to my parent's house. My mom thought he was cute, and he thought she was cute, and as usual, my father was anti-social, but he'll come around. He'll have to. I plan on keeping this one around for awhile.
Anyone else watch "Big In '04" on VH1? Anyone else think Anna Nicole Smith has been huffing glue? What is up with that bitch? Her, Flav and Stallone's ex all got dropped on their heads at some point. Gadzooks! Yeah, that was a pretty lame ass awards show. They pretty much just gave the award to whoever said they would actually show up. I don't know how Paris Hilton has time to eat, what with all the fucking appearances she makes. What a red carpet whore. OH! OOOOOOH! Ok, now it all makes sense!
Hey, I am 44! What's your real age?