Cleaning sucks. And I just learned that no, the guests aren't coming this Saturday nor Monday (as previously planned) but all three are coming next Saturday. NEXT SATURDAY.
Didn't mean to sound like Harry just now but... why the hell am I cleaning so hard for? I almost finished my room (and that's saying a lot) before I found out this news. So tomorrow I plan to vacuum and then clean something that'll take me "all day" (possibly the small hallway upstairs).
Heh, that's funny. Listening to Phantom Planet's "The Guest" right now.
And off to another random tangent. Before the end of school I burned a cd for Nikki of some really good Phantom Planet songs... including their rendition of "Winter Wonderland" (I shite you not). A week later, Nikki comes back to me with this story: "So I was feeling all down and emo and depressed while listening to that cd you gave me. And then I heard this one song and I'm like 'oh, I think I've heard this one.' Well, when it got to the chorus I realized... this is a fucking Christmas song! I was pissed for about a minute, but listening to the rest of that song did make me feel better."
Ah, you've got to love her and her ex-boyfriend turned "friend with frequent benefits" (I like to call him Mr. Inches). They check out boys together at Borders, Barnes & Nobles, and other assorted bookshops.
So, it's not quite a bookshop (unless you count that small used book section downstairs) but I've decided that libraries can be surprisingly good cruising areas. Well, man-watching anyways. It doesn't really have that sort of hook up atmosphere. Other than quoting from eachother's favorite books, there's not much in the way of flirting when you have to be "quiet."
I mean, I can think of more opportunities to hit on someone in church than in a library. And no, I'm not talking about priests or personal experiences.
Stupid email. Now I'm gonna shirk my bed for a good 24 hours. Bah. I can always sleep on the couch.
Oh, and I've said it once, but I'll say it again. I've had it with bi boys. Before, I only ment the ones that resided in Vegas hoping that there were a few decent ones out there in the rest of this blue globe. Nope. Haven't found one yet, and all the ones that I've talked to turned out disappointing. So, my abstinance from bi boys now spreads to practically all corners of the world.
Ha. Empty promise, I know. Now I'm stalling time so I won't have to go to bed. Yeesh.
Bad thing about being raised to be religious: your religion of choice may change (or vanish completely) yet your superstitions persist.
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