Vagueness, you are
a bitch. I would like to stuff my foot
down your throat til your shit’s in my shoes and you have to pay my dry
cleaning bill. (thanks bad-ass,
hood-rat, gangsta Natalie Portman, for the line, not vagueness, Natalie is
too cool for vagueness). I am tired of
your ‘Woe as me…ho hum…hey, look at this fancy, schmancy, new raincoat’ tricks. Stop opening the door to your life a teensy weensy
crack before slamming it shut in my face and distracting me with your shiny and
new stuff. You either have something to
say or you don’t, I’m not gonna pull it out of you, not even when I remove my
shoe from your digestive tract. So,
getting to spilling the beans or shut the fuck up already.
In other news, it
was markedly warmer last night; I was able to shed a layer or two. I did learn the answer to the age old
question: Why do you make the bed if you are just going to mess it back up in a
few hours. Apparently, if you use more
than 1 sheet or a light blanket when you sleep, you somehow twist those suckers
into locker room quality snapping tools and if you don’t straighten them before
going back to bed, you will spend the your entire fucking night trying (unsuccessfully
I might add) to untangle them.
In further, other
news, I freaking love the Aloe Vera socks.
I wonder if they make Aloe Vera footie pajamas. If not, can I buy enough of the socks and
find someone that loves me (or will accept my complete love and adoration (for as
long as the pjs last) as payment because I am pretty sure investing in enough socks
to stitch into a pair of footie pajamas is gonna be all the money I got.
In still further,
other news, why are pajamas called a pair? Why are jeans called a pair?
In further still,
further, other news, I went to the gym today and had a pretty decent run. I was pretty tired and about to stop when
Down came on the radio and I was so pumped about it I managed to keep running
through the song!
In other, further
still, further, other news, I bought a new sports bra and tested it out
today. It did a good job keeping everything
in place but getting it on was special treat.
The bra has a zipper closure in the front and when I bought it I thought
that seemed like a good idea – sorta a quick release mechanism once I’m all
sweaty from working out. Turns out,
holding the two sides together over the boobage while trying to zip the damn
thing is nearly impossible. The purpose
of a sports bra is to hold everything down so no one, namely me, gets maimed
during the working out, but in order to do that, the bra needs to be pretty
tight. Pretty tight + a zipper = almost
asking the lady next to me to push my boobs down while I zip the zipper.
What a way to
start the week.
