Marc
If only everyone played the drinking game "ASSHOLE" with UNO cards.
That's my big thought for the night. I had a rough one so far. I went to this so-called "party" with this so-called "girl", and it turned out to be a bunch of people sitting around a coffee table playing the above-mentioned drinking game (with regular cards), and screaming at each other. I don't do well around gobs of people that I don't know. I'm self-conscious to say the least, and I don't like the sound of my own voice after long periods of silence. I was originally told that we would stop in, make an appearance and what not, then jet for more comfortable surroundings with Matt, Rick, Erin, and the rest of the Crew. After an hour and a half, I was beginning to think that I was getting screwed. I was still sitting on the same arm of the same couch for what seemed like an eternity. My ass hurt. The only solace I had was that there was an UNO "Skip" card mixed up in the real cards, and people kept throwing it down like it was the real deal, HOLYFIELD!
When I finally did coax her ass out of the apartment (politely, I might add = hint of puppy dog eyes, shuffle of the feet, and a general look of despair usually does the trick) we found her car blocked in by some fucking mini-van. And, did it belong to anyone in the apartment we just left? Nope. Did she really want to leave? Nope. So I said "fuck it" and started walking. I was followed by some dudes in a green, Eddie Bauer Jeep Grand Cherokee for about two blocks. That made me nervous, so I kept calling people on my cell phone to look like . .. uh ... like someone that was talking to people on a cell phone. I don't know where I was going with that one.
We Met Our Upstairs Neighbors: and they seem alright. A bunch of girls. One was fairly attractive. The other two gave off a strange impression. Somewhere between Molly Ringwald and Jennifer Love Hewitt. I'll have to get back to you on how it all turns out. Check back in about 11 months for the end results. As for now, we might be grilling out with them tomorrow. I'd really like to make an honest effort to get to know the people I'm sharing a building with this year. Last year was such a catastrophe living in the same square-footage as all those damned frat-boys. Let's pray for peace this time around.
Michelle's "Awkward Pirouhettes in the General Direction of Hope" blog is the new link on the side: I read it tonight for the first time, and she mentioned the Mount Saint Helen's in it. Can't be all bad, kiddies. Check her (and them) out.
Screw the Head Count for tonight. My fingers are too tired. Look down, I'm sure there's something about it there. If not, oh well . ... BLARG. .. 9 of 100. Only 91 more to go. Please don't let us down. It's the summer, we need all the help we can get.
If only everyone played the drinking game "ASSHOLE" with UNO cards.
That's my big thought for the night. I had a rough one so far. I went to this so-called "party" with this so-called "girl", and it turned out to be a bunch of people sitting around a coffee table playing the above-mentioned drinking game (with regular cards), and screaming at each other. I don't do well around gobs of people that I don't know. I'm self-conscious to say the least, and I don't like the sound of my own voice after long periods of silence. I was originally told that we would stop in, make an appearance and what not, then jet for more comfortable surroundings with Matt, Rick, Erin, and the rest of the Crew. After an hour and a half, I was beginning to think that I was getting screwed. I was still sitting on the same arm of the same couch for what seemed like an eternity. My ass hurt. The only solace I had was that there was an UNO "Skip" card mixed up in the real cards, and people kept throwing it down like it was the real deal, HOLYFIELD!
When I finally did coax her ass out of the apartment (politely, I might add = hint of puppy dog eyes, shuffle of the feet, and a general look of despair usually does the trick) we found her car blocked in by some fucking mini-van. And, did it belong to anyone in the apartment we just left? Nope. Did she really want to leave? Nope. So I said "fuck it" and started walking. I was followed by some dudes in a green, Eddie Bauer Jeep Grand Cherokee for about two blocks. That made me nervous, so I kept calling people on my cell phone to look like . .. uh ... like someone that was talking to people on a cell phone. I don't know where I was going with that one.
We Met Our Upstairs Neighbors: and they seem alright. A bunch of girls. One was fairly attractive. The other two gave off a strange impression. Somewhere between Molly Ringwald and Jennifer Love Hewitt. I'll have to get back to you on how it all turns out. Check back in about 11 months for the end results. As for now, we might be grilling out with them tomorrow. I'd really like to make an honest effort to get to know the people I'm sharing a building with this year. Last year was such a catastrophe living in the same square-footage as all those damned frat-boys. Let's pray for peace this time around.
Michelle's "Awkward Pirouhettes in the General Direction of Hope" blog is the new link on the side: I read it tonight for the first time, and she mentioned the Mount Saint Helen's in it. Can't be all bad, kiddies. Check her (and them) out.
Screw the Head Count for tonight. My fingers are too tired. Look down, I'm sure there's something about it there. If not, oh well . ... BLARG. .. 9 of 100. Only 91 more to go. Please don't let us down. It's the summer, we need all the help we can get.
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