July 13, 2004 - 12:31 pm
So I've got my coffee and I've got my water. I even have a sammich for lunch. If only I had my appetite. I don't know where it went, but it's pretty much halved itself in the last week.
Perhaps it's all that food I ate on the 4th...it stored itself in my camel hump, so now I don't need anything more to survive than coffee and Swedish Fish. And of course, I don't NEED the Swedish Fish...unless I'm watching movies or Law & Order.
So, all that aside...two things that have been on my mind. Boys and roommates.
To begin, boys. What the fuck, man? Quit being so fucking weird, dig?
That's not directed at anyone in specific, but it's come to my attention that almost everyone with a penis has done something to completely confuse or frustrate me in the tenure of our relationship-except for Cameron. But that's just because Cameron, much like Mary Poppins, is practically perfect in every way. Girls, you should date him. Or at least call him to tell him to love him, and hug him when you see him.
As for the rest of you, if you haven't straightened out, fuckin' hop on it. Disappointments and contradictory behaviors will no longer be tolerated, and you will be discharged from the Megan fan club without ceremony.
And now roommates. In spite of the many times I've vented about petty shit in my home, the fact is that I'm damned lucky. It's very rare that I have to worry about home being a tension-filled place, the only exceptions being when one or both of our lives is so stressful that it bleeds into where the heart is. In the end, I'm happy as hell that I don't have to label my food or calculate bills down to the penny, or deal with annoying habits that make me consider homocide. She's responsible and supportive, and deals with my quirks with minimal mockery or complaint. Plus, I get to live with my best friend, and I've got two collage frames of proof to back that last part up.
Others, however, are not so lucky. Last night Amy called me very much upset over her own roommate and the deterioration of their friendship and comfortable living situation. Now she has to worry about what to do next year and that's an uncertainty I know can be hellish. Stacey's given me a laundry list of horror stories involving an old coworker, who has both had and been a horrible roommate many times over.
So once again, I extend a "what the fuck?" I mean, can't we all just get along? Is it too much to ask someone to pay their share of the bills on time, clean up their messes, and leave the gay porn viewing for the privacy of their own room?
I mean, these are just my thoughts on the matter...
In other news, I got no game. I must make up for this by storming a thing or two in honor of Bastille Day (tomorrow)...Well?!
Later that day: I think it is very important that I make note of a great discovery. After a viewing of the quite underappreciated film, A Life Less Ordinary, on the 4th, I decided to pick up the soundtrack. I am here now to report that it makes my pants happy. Go buy it.
