seriously

okay. myspace sucks and i miss my out-of-town amies. (speaking of myspace have you read the article in the new yorker about facebook? must be nice to be a 21 year old millionaire)

so we will see.

here are the rules
1. no capital letters but for Coney Island
2. no names

okay- my life is a hot mess. literally. i am sitting shirtless in my abode- not because i am an internet perv, but because the air-conditioning broke THREE DAYS AGO (breaking the rules already). three days. there are laws against this; how did quentin compson ever deal with this crap and have to listen to that fruitcake?

as of now... recovering from the trauma of last night. i love it when you can't offer your morning guests anything for breakfast because you don't grocery shop with anyone but yourself in mind (canned tuna fish, soy nuts, and natural peanut butter do not an impressive breakfast make. wait there is some yogurt that is only 3 weeks past date. hot.)

opie- do you have another nursery for me?? i need a mommy.

it's too hot to go out into the world, and my system is for a down today.
fyi- sulfites are my nemesis.
arch, baby.

so let's do an order of operations for last night...

heat(pinot grigio + hotdogs2) - (sharing a bed + birds at 4:30 am) + egg sandwiches in the a.m. = headache and sweats

this mathematical equation is heightened by the terror of a muscular system that has been trashed by ridiculous runs through pwp and the tennis pro's unique form of torture. (bend your knees when you serve bee-atch. arch that back. quit wiggling)

i am off to deposit my 4 cups of morning coffee and start on some gatorade. holy headache.

just realized that the lawn guys can see in my window. i wondered why it was taking them so long to weed whack. adding a shirt to my list of things to do today.