So the BookRiot thing has passed, and I have gained the title of "second place loser person." But I remain content in the knowledge that the girl who won doesn't use shit like this:
So who's the REAL winner? Still her. But that's ok.
I'm going home for the first time in five months this weekend, which is RIDICULOUS because I usually go home once a month because I have a younger brother and he and I need bonding time, but instead my parents have been coming up here, for I have had commitments and so forth that have not permitted me to journey beyond the city limits.
My mother has promised me hummus and chocolate cake (I get officially older on Saturday, as one of my older brothers did earlier this week, and as my little brother will next week), so I am GOOD TO GO. So long as I also get Dad Is Fat by Jim Gaffigan. I really want to read that.
My parents' house is weird, because they've left my room as it was when I was 18, so whenever I go home, it's like 'Yup, there's my door with my pictures of Michelle Branch, Orlando Bloom, Keanu Reeves and Rosemary Clooney on it. And there are all the books I didn't deem worthy to take with me to Chicago (lookin' at you, Washington Square) and basically everything here makes me feel like I should eat a jar of frosting because THAT'S WHAT I DID WHEN I WAS 18.' And all I do in life is tape shit on my walls, which was especially bad when I was a teenager, so pretty much all wall space in my room is covered.
Basically what I'm saying it, everything's good because I will be eating a massive amount of hummus this weekend and then getting Five Guys, because the main thing you can do in my hometown is drive around to various places and eat a lot. AND THEN SEE THE HANGOVER 3, AMIRITE.
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| Tracy Jordan's mental image of Harriet Tubman |
So who's the REAL winner? Still her. But that's ok.
 |
| totally ok |
I'm going home for the first time in five months this weekend, which is RIDICULOUS because I usually go home once a month because I have a younger brother and he and I need bonding time, but instead my parents have been coming up here, for I have had commitments and so forth that have not permitted me to journey beyond the city limits.
My mother has promised me hummus and chocolate cake (I get officially older on Saturday, as one of my older brothers did earlier this week, and as my little brother will next week), so I am GOOD TO GO. So long as I also get Dad Is Fat by Jim Gaffigan. I really want to read that.
My parents' house is weird, because they've left my room as it was when I was 18, so whenever I go home, it's like 'Yup, there's my door with my pictures of Michelle Branch, Orlando Bloom, Keanu Reeves and Rosemary Clooney on it. And there are all the books I didn't deem worthy to take with me to Chicago (lookin' at you, Washington Square) and basically everything here makes me feel like I should eat a jar of frosting because THAT'S WHAT I DID WHEN I WAS 18.' And all I do in life is tape shit on my walls, which was especially bad when I was a teenager, so pretty much all wall space in my room is covered.
 |
| all musical references here are 2003 or earlier |
Basically what I'm saying it, everything's good because I will be eating a massive amount of hummus this weekend and then getting Five Guys, because the main thing you can do in my hometown is drive around to various places and eat a lot. AND THEN SEE THE HANGOVER 3, AMIRITE.
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