“It's a hard life to live, so live it well, I'll be your friend and not in pretend”
-Oooh La, The Kooks

Friday: will ye not end?

Actually I have nothing to complain about, save for my jagged tooth end cutting into my tongue. I did after all, receive a free hand lotion sample today, am listening to moderately decent music on Xfm, purchased Bloc Party tickets today, bid on 1 cent DVDs like Dawn of the Dead (Aught 4 version) on eBay, AND am currently eating a Three Musketeers chocolate bar (seriously, when was the last time YOU had one?) while whiling the rest of the afternoon twiddling my thumbs.

I actually think the time has come for me to grow weary of the Dance cave. Eve wants to go, I do not. Its not that I am tired of the skinny jean-pool- not yet anyway- its my ever growing laziness culled with, “That song? Again?!” But on the other hand, I lack a discernable social life, and am perhaps better for it, which leave me with the question of, “if I don’t go to the Dance Cave, where else will I be able to complain while more often than not, enjoying the one-two punch of “Hotel Yorba” and “The Passenger?” That, and I’m cheap so getting into the Cave for free is still alluring.

“The world can be a very big place, So be yourself don't get out of place”

Tomorrow is the less-than-promising night of Bryna’s and Lauren’s birthday celebratrios, at least the former as opposed to the latter. While contractually obligated to make an appearance at Bryna’s party since it is taking place at my humble abode afterall before the party moves on to the greener pastures of the local karaoke bar, I’m only really looking forward to the meeting of a dude who I was promised I would like. This gentleman (and I have taken to referring to men as “gents” in general this week) is, according to Bryna anyway as I was about to politely decline her stance on men given the recent incident involving the “Window Slasher”, “totally up my alley…he looks like he fell out of a British rock band.” I have two types: Not too meaty, Not too firm and Indie Rock God. Bonus points for when she told me he was “weird” because he enjoyed talking in various accents, including but not limited to pirate. Perhaps it will be love and by next post we’ll be engaged and on our way to happily wedded bliss. Or at the very least, I’ll have an amusing story to tell, probably by the time I make it to Lauren’s drink-o-rama.

“Go to Hollywood and pay the price”

I think I should go back and erase that part about listening to decent music on Xfm because “Firestarter” by Prodigy just came over the interweb airwaves. Shudder. Pushing horrible flashbacks of grade 10 boyfriend out of my head and trying to keep Three Musketeers bar down.

I’ve also made a conscious decision not to brush my hair, save for styling my 1986 flavoured bangs. Most of you are probably asking, “What? You mean up to this point you actually brushed your hair?” but I have now given up that toque weather wintry-ness is fully developed.

An hour to go ‘til Eve shows up for a Red Room dinner fiesta. I think I should look into making paper dolls of random people like Stephen Hawking, Jonas Salk or the Gentlemen of the Industrial Revolution. Or paper dolls of you.

Laters.

“Pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty petticoat”