inner-seething frustrations are perhaps better than fully blown bitchy tirades. the things i say astound me. the things i do, even after i've experienced the consequences, baffle me too. no more lectures, please? yes, i know better, yes i should have finished it already, no i'm not trying to test your patience, yes i appreciate everything you do for me.
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the height of superficiality yesterday was.. off the scale. there really are so many better things to do in life than:
watch semi-drunk to pissed drunk girls and boys stumble onto the pavement and then fall onto the asphalt.
get annoyed by boys who think dancing with girlfriend = draping themselves across said girlfriends' shoulders like sweater while trying to wiggle their hips.
smile at people you really rather not be smiling at because you really rather not have gone in the first place.
forget people's names and smile while they talk to you and then stupidly decide to introduce your friends to umm... wait give me a moment.
stare at fifty year old men holding hands with women young enough to be their daughters.
wonder what it would be like if the student body in university dressed up like clubbers then wonder about trade offs between atas ridiculous and moose print sweat pants + crocs.
escape from unpleasant situations by going to the hot dog stand and return with hot dog on stick when said unpleasantness is over.
make promises you'd rather not keep the next day.
be amused by old gay men signing people in and waving with disapproval at someone who tried to follow the troopers through the doors.
be happy when supper with many cans of barley is in the cards.
