Rewarding Trimester Battery

Christ! I figured out what to do when you're really bored. Have a really big loud fight with your ex boyfriend for two hours! I mean...it's not too boring. 

I just tried getting my laundry out of the machine for four hours, no exaggeration. It REALLY freaked me out because all of my clothes were in there. If anyone knows me at all they know I change my outfit 3 times a year. So...this trimester's outfit was stuck in the washing machine. 

I just realized, I always think I should reward myself. For doing nothing. I'm sitting in bed playing online Jeopardy and think OMG I SHOULD REALLY HAVE A REWARD RIGHT NOW! Or I'm making the cat follow an olive pit around the house and think OMG I SHOULD HAVE A REWARD!

What.

I'm so totally baffled by these kids I knew in high school who still think they need to flaunt their drug-use and the fact that they have popped and snorted and smoked everything the world has to offer. What THE FUCK? We've all moved on besides you...

I really want to see where they'll be in...5 years even. 

BY THE WAY: I realized a couple of months ago that I have never had a sloppy joe. And I still haven't had one. Everyone tells me it's nothing special but those Manwich commercials get me really excited. 

And...before last week I had never seen a kitten in person. Only pictures. Cats were never even an idea growing up for me. 

Which makes me seem really sheltered (and the fact that I will never be able to use a canopener as long as I live). But I guarantee I have done a shitload of things normal people haven't done. ie: Walk down an Icelandic highway half naked with a jester hat on, lost for 5 hours. 

K?

I'm really afraid that I wrote 23908423 times better blog (livejournal) entries when I was 14.

Honey-crab Guatemalan Fried Chicken

NO ONE wants to read about how bored someone else is. But whatever. I am so genuinely bored.  Not just right now- but in general. 

I'm lying here in a pile of magazines and instruments, eating entire cucumbers and chain smoking in bed. I have no job- and it's nearly impossible to get a job here if you aren't fluent in French. Unless I want to work at a call center and kill myself. 

It's so hard to go outside at -30 degrees, and guess what? The groundhogs say we are in for six more weeks of winter. 

My little sister called me last night and said, "I heard you are bored." I'm glad news is a'travelin. She's so adorable though. Then she goes, "Get a pen and a piece of paper." I am eating handfuls of cereal and say "OK." She says, "No really! Get a piece of paper." So I got a piece of paper and she says: "I want you to go to the bookstore and buy Demian by Herman Hesse and Leaves of Grass by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Then go to the grocery store and buy those giant pasta shells and find the weirdest combination to stuff it with- like crab and honey. Then go to a cheap store and buy the marshmallowiest socks you can find. Go home, make the pasta, put on the socks, put on some Philip Glass, light some candles and read for five days."

Dang girl. That's a lot to ask from the laziest bitch in town. 

Oof. I'm being a huge bitch to everyone. I don't mean to, but I'm so fed up. I don't know how to meet people. I don't understand at the beginning of classes how everyone is chatting. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW EACH OTHER? Dumb bitches. I can never meet people at school or normal places. Only in public bathrooms, dollar stores, and maybe sometimes a bar.

I went to this bar on Saturday with my friend Emily. It was so damn crowded and I ended up losing her. I went outside to smoke and maybe see if she'd come out. But all I found were dirty old men. A 600 pound 48 year old hillbilly who was completely bald except for a dangling rat's tail saw me and went "Oh my god...WHERE DID YOU GET THAT SMILE?" and tried to kiss my hand. Then a 60 year old Guatemalan. 

Meanwhile, I found out later, my friend was making out with some hot French guy in his car. 

I'm so lucky. 

Sometimes I just want to eat fried chicken until the cows come home.