It is a beautiful, wonderful, gorgeous day out there. Sososososos v. nice. So why'm I here? Why am I not out basking in the sunlight, dressed as I am? (knee high socks, schoolgirl pleated skirt, purply-pink tube top, y'know, skank that I am) Well, I'm here to inform shiseiji
that the parcel arrived Monday, I didn't find out 'til Tuesday, and didn't get to pick it up until today, Thursday. But zomg zomg. Sugar rush already. Aaaaand yeah. Love, much love. :D
Anyway, you know when you're talking about something, and your mouth just takes over and says something you didn't mean to say? And I don't mean, you suddenly offer a blunt opinion that upsets someone, but like, you mess up your words or have a case of spoonerisms. Happened the other day, Friday, I was at Grant's and somehow it came up that, slim as we both were, my wide hips were good at taking up a lot of the space. (I may not have shiseiji
's gigantic birthing hips, but they're wide enough, that's for sure) Well, Grant went to say, "Wide hips" but it came out "Wild hips." Funny enough on its own...
It just gave me this hilarious visual of a bunch of bare hips grazing on a plain. They'd just be plodding along in their herds, 'til someone came along to rustle some up or something... then there'd be panic, and these stampeding wild hips... it was a funny visual, anywho.
Yesterday I was all geared up not to see Grant, 'cause he'd sent a text saying he was tired and planned to sleep. But then, my cellphone was on its charger so I didn't get the next text saying he couldn't sleep, he was going into town, and did I want to come over for pizza later? Instead he found me in the library, and we wandered around for a wee bit, enjoying the lovely, lovely sunshine. Then we went up and passed the time for a while, until it was time to make the pizza.
It was kind of a gourmet style pizza. Aside from the necessary tomato paste and cheese, there was onions, salami, capsicum, olives, feta cheese, anchovies (I discovered they're not all that bad, but I wouldn't wanna overdo 'em), and these things, these other things that I can't remember what they're called, but they're supposed to be good and I think I plain did not notice them. But it was a v. nice pizza that we ate while watching the news.
We actually watched a lot of tv, spent the most amount of time in the living room we ever have, watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force, the Simpsons, Scrubs, SVU, and Green Wing. All in all, good stuff.
Oh, oh, it was so funny; Grant and I stopped by where I'm staying so I could grab a couple things (some CDs for him to listen to, I meant to grab my phone off the charger and forgot, and my jacket so I wouldn't freeze when I walked home), and as I was heading back downstairs Glenn came out from the back room.
I smiled--no, I think I rather smirked--at him, so he asked, rather paranoid, "What?" and I laughed.
"What have you been up to?" he demanded.
"It's not what I've been up to," I replied, "but more what I'm about
to get up to!"
He swore and I walked out under a tirade of, "Oi, no one said you could leave. Where are you going? Get back in here!"
(Don't worry, he wasn't serious, just jealous at the mere suggestion someone's getting laid when he is not)
Besides, that was more than enough revenge for the stunt he pulled yesterday morning. Back on Tuesday, I very generously cooked him dinner (what the hey, I'll play domestic goddess when I've got so much bourbon from him) and we also watched the DVD of Wes Craven's "Cursed" with Christina Ricci and Josh Jackson. While utterly predictable, it was fucking hilarious. Anyway, afer the movie I pleaded sleepiness and went to bed. I didn't have a hangover yesterday or anything--I've only had one or two ever
thanks to Absolut Vodka--I just had a hard time waking up, and I was in a sort of not-ready-to-face-the-world-grunt-my-
answers mood. I'd be better once I'd had my coffee and breakfast.
Well he and the Other Grant apparently got up when the birds did or some shit 'cause they were already up when I stumbled down. I was making my coffee when they walked into the kitchen. "You look like shit!" Glenn told me not unkindly. "I'm not awake yet," I responded. He walked past me, and the next thing I know, I'm flinching back 'cause I looked over in time to see him banging to pots right next to my head.
" was all I could say while they laughed at me. Bastards.
Oh, rather amusing email from my cousin John. He's a cop in Colorado, and I get the occasional narrative from him about some interesting event or another. he's a cool cousin.( Subject: Stroker Ace )Fin.