christine called me a hag on myspace for never writing in here. i'm not sure if i've ever been called a hag.

she's the hag for never coming to visit her sweet grandparents in hyde park before. and that would be a little more true if you replaced "sweet grandparents" with me, because god knows she don't wanna come visit ginger.

i move into my new apartment in t-minus twenty seven days. it has a bedroom and everything. meaning that it has a recreational area as well. meaning that it is not a studio apartment.

maybe i get to be a grown up soon. i don't really want to know. i just think it's pretty dope that it's right across the street from cordell's house, so as soon as i'm done having my way with him i can send his ass home.

i'm just kidding. but you never know. i won't have air conditioning anymore and i already get hot as a motherfucker with his skinny ass taking up the left side of my goddamn bed.

sometimes i like it, though.

but not enough to keep me from picking a meaningless fight just to get him to go home.

that actually doesn't sound like a bad idea. he is easily angered, after all.

the other day, just when i had given up on my fun recreational flirting with al the hot bartender at jimmy's (because everyone ELSE stuck their fat fucking faces in it and convinced him i wanted to be his damn girlfriend which of course scared him off and to which i responded "i already HAVE a fucking boyfriend, i don't need another") he started it up again.

i glanced at him from across the bar and he came over and gave me that smile (the kid has like 400 teeth) and i told him i didn't need anything and then jokingly added "i was just making eyes at you from across the bar."

he said "that's okay, you make nice eyes."

mother FUCKER.

he's such a damn bartender. it's like in order to be a hot bartender you're required to have 400 perfectly white teeth even though you smoke a constant line of parliament lights and drink for ten straight hours a day.

i keep wanting to tell him that i don't want to date him (because for one, i already have my own quasi-boyfriend and for another, he can't not be a whore with all of the u of c skanks in tiny denim skirts that are all "hi al!" as they lean over the bar and try to be seductive. it's hilarious and yet still marginally acceptable that he would fuck them because of the pure ease of it.).

i really just want to fuck him so i can tell all of my girlfriends that he really ain't all that good.

even if he is.

no, i would never do that. i probably wouldn't even tell anyone (except for the select few) because god knows it would get back to cordell and he would fucking cry and throw a fucking beer can at the floor or something else equally as ridiculous and like him.

but maybe i'm just a big talker. who knows?

let's see what happens and i'll write in another three months.

or MAYBE even SOONER.

you never know.

0 kids told me how it was so far
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