It was a weekend that can only be summed up in the following phrase: Out with the old and in with the new.
I finally had the nerve to gather together all the things belonging to my ex-boyfriend still lying around my house. There was a lot more than I remember. At least 15 movies/DVDs intermingled with my large collection. Clothes found in my laundry, stuffed in drawers, and left in what was designated as his drawer. I was nice enough to wash everything. Yep…I have a nice heart sometimes. Just…a lot more stuff than I recall. What hurt the most? Putting things in a bag I had given to him. *Sigh* I could rant and rave here about how I miss what me and him had, what the gifts meant to me, to him, blah blah.
That was a big move for me. I meant to call him, and let him know I wanted to exchange our things. It has been over 3 months since the infamous date of breaking up. Time to move on.
Which did happen. New Guy and I took the next step in what I guess is forming into some sort of relationship. Neither of us is seeing another person. Over spinach dip, mozzarella sticks, quesadillas, and buffalo wings, we discussed what defined cheating for us. A weird conversation to have in a public place, yes, but it ended up being quite entertaining. It boils down to one thing: No strippers.
Kind of a crap shoot for one of my jobs. Supposedly, the company is cutting hours, but people who have only been working their 3 months are getting more hours than those of us who have been working for more than a year. Does that seem right to you? Doesn’t make much sense to me.
However, it’s great talking to my coworkers about girly things. I got to hash out a few things about this past weekend with New Guy that didn’t quite make sense to me. Like, how he made a pretty big decision for the both of us, and just decided not to tell me. I had to assume it, or I should have assumed it by now. HA! I can’t read the male mind, nor do I want to, most days. It was plain nice to talk to other girls about this sort of stuff. JCP – Sunday edition. Always a new topic, always a new crisis to fix. We seriously need to be contracted out to do a show like The Office. No doubt, it would be a smash hit.
My beloved hockey team got its ass kicked by a mediocre team. First game, they tied. Second game, they were plain shut out. What an embarrassment. Very disappointing, but hopefully they get their act together in time for the play-offs. It would be pretty amazing to go on to win another national championship!
All in all, I don’t think I could be watching a crappier movie than I am at this very second. Miley Cyrus, how you thought you would undoubtedly be nominated for an Academy Award for your role in this movie is beyond me. I, who have very little camera acting experience, would have done a much better job. I would actually know what acting is, and not just let me mouth gape the entire time. And how you, Nicholas Sparks, could state out loud and in interviews that you only imagined Miley Cyrus in this role the entire time you were writing the book? That’s pretty tragic. (If you know what movie I’m talking about, you get a double amount of bonus points…and brownies.)
Words I want to leave you with tonight? Oh, they are good.
“Neighbors. I’d rather have thrush.”
Spoken like a true champ, the credentialed cut-up, Pamela Stephenson.
So you know what thrush is? A yeast infection that develops in the mouth and throat and on the tongue.
You must really hate the neighbors if you wish that upon yourself.
Can’t say I hate my neighbors. I don’t even dislike them. They’re all elderly. You have to understand, I live in an apartment complex that houses the non-party animal college students and the elderly who are still able to live capably on their own. And when I say the college students are non-party animals, it doesn’t mean we don’t go out and party. But you’re not going to walk into your room at 2 in the morning, and still have music vibrating the walls.
Like last weekend, I’ll leave you with seven things you may not know about this Modern Jedi. Enjoy the last few minutes of this wonderfully topsy-turvy weekend. We’ll return to the ways of the Force tomorrow. May the Force be with you.
Oh yeah, my apartment smells like burnt buttered popcorn. Go me! Night, y’all 🙂