1. Got gloriously, sloppily drunk;
2. Fell asleep and subsequently had a dream that my roommate and I got a pet tortoise (or rather, the tortoise crawled out from under my bed one morning and we were like, “Hey neat! We’ve got a tortoise!”) and then we got into a huge fight because I wanted to name the tortoise “Daydream Believer” and he thought that was a stupid idea;
3. Told my roomate about the dream, he said, “You predicited the future! I do think ‘Daydream Believer’ is a stupid name for a tortoise,” which clearly indicates that he knows nothing about either tortoises or awesome names for things;
4. Got a sewing machine on craigslist! Rock and Roll and Sewing Summer starts RIGHT NOW;
5. Named my sewing machine “Daydream Believer.”
Unrelated: what is up with boys? Seriously. I’m starting to worry that the problem is me. Seems completely unlikely, though, because last time I checked, I was awesome and boys were still idiots.
OH AND ALSO: Turns out the LA Public Library has back issues of Seventeen magazine starting from 1962. I am, like, so totes going this weekend so I can do some archival research for Yet-Untitled Shangri-Las Project.
You need to find a man, not a boy. It was when I noticed my man wearing black socks with black shoes that I realized he was a man, not a boy. Also, his house is always clean, not just tidy, but actually clean.
I can’t wait for you to get a tortoise! One day when I buy a house I’m getting a goat so that I don’t have to mow the lawn.
I like to think that the problem is not boys, nor Alexandra, but the entire human race. We are all terrible people.
Have fun with Daydream Believer! Sew me an X-Files thing!
i need to go to the LA Public Library too – to look at a 1899 edition of 1001 Arabian Nights en français. It’s 16 volumes and fancy! Want to go together this weekend?