styrofoam boots

I have some cash in my pocket. It’s a little rainy, which is okay because it hasn’t been a little rainy around here in while. The crazy monkey MIS gentlemen at work are going to get me more memory for my computer.

The cash in my pocket is important, because I can buy bagels when I want, and soft drinks, and even candy. And sometimes comicbooks. Which is important.

Last night I went shopping with my mother. When a woman is in her mid-twenties, shopping with her mother instantly reverts her to the pouting age of thirteen. The age where she is stupid, you are right; you do not want to have anything to do with her, she is humiliated by you. I think part of all this is that she wanted a daughter and got a tomboy. I hate shopping, I view it as a necessary evil. Especially when malls are involved. I wanted new jeans, she wanted to find me a nice suit. Um, I don’t wear suits. Ever. But somehow she had almost convinced me that I was WRONG for not having a suit. I want jeans and a teeshirt I saw that says “Have some Pie!” I love that teeshirt, but I couldn’t probably wear it to work. Like Sig says, “but it’s PIE.”

Where was I?

So, my mother loves shopping, she views it as a hobby. I appeased her and bought lipstick. $18 dollar lipstick to get her off my back. A small price to pay for an evening of relative peace. A will wear this lipstick twice, it will last me years. Shit.

Also, I forgot to tell you yesterday that I bought MAYFIELD. It too is good. There is a joke behind the reason the band is called Mayfield. If you write me I will tell you the joke.

It’s not a great joke.

Also, I spent a little time reading through the OM archives myself. It’s pretty amusing. Aww. Reminiscing. Reunited. And it feels so good.

Groovin’ loose or heart to heart
We put in motion every single part
Funky sounds wall to wall
We’re bumpin’ booties, havin’ us a ball, y’all

Stuff to do, maybe:
-Replace Liz Phair CD that I kicked across the parking lot
-Get TB test redone
-Pay car insurance, sucky sucky sucky car insurance, sucky
-Watch more Iron Chef, less Dateline

PS I once knew a girl named Sheri Collier. I liked her because she was into Johnny Cash, made pottery, and was one of the only things that made sense in the year 2000. Last I heard she had ran away to Nashville, and was a waitress. Sheri Collier, Earth to Me. If you know her, tell her I am looking for her.

0 Responses to “styrofoam boots”


Comments are currently closed.