I never understood the saying “fuck my life” until this morning when I woke up with the worst hangover known to man. Despite my attempts at sober living I went out yesterday and drank a bottle of wine, which is one wine bottle too many. I attempted to cure the hangover, but failed miserably. I ate some bread (didn’t work) had a shower and a bath (fail and fail) slept (nope) and took some vitamins and aspirin (no luck). I am ok now, but it’s also almost 11pm. I have been hungover all day in a zombie-like (minus the brain eating) state. I did not finish my art project like I had planned so tomorrow will be filled with drawing and reading.
Speaking of reading I have to pick up a play by Shakespeare….I better check my class syllabus.
Note to self: avoid people and any fun for the next couple of weeks or at least keep the fun to a minimum. I need to focus!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Pump your fist!
It’s just over 2 weeks since the New Year. I made a New Year resolution to keep all my bad habits (So far so good). I’m still eating chocolate daily and not exercising at all. I’m on my way to weighing 300 pounds and having my own hour special on TLC: 300 pounds and growing.
Seriously, I did make some resolutions…well, a bucket list (I just realized a week ago why it is called a “bucket list”. To “kick the bucket” is to die. I have never witnessed someone kicking a bucket before they die. I don’t get the correlation, but that’s just me).
While in Starbucks (raise your coffee cups up) I composed a well thought out list of things I’d like to do:
1. Listen to “And She Was” by the Talking Heads and “Stand and Deliver” by Adam Ant 5 days a week.
2. Wear sweatpants out in public (I have never done this. Although I have worn socks and sandals together and that is an even bigger fashion crime in my opinion).
3. Lie to someone about who I am. This will likely happen in a bar when someone asks me my name. I will need to come up with an elaborate story about who I am.
a. Wealthy philanthropist
b. Pregnant
c. Former child pageant winner
4. Donate (a liver? Mine is shot. Blood? This is the best option. Clothes? No one wants my rags)
5. Develop an insecurity
6. Get over that insecurity
7. Get on Jersey Shore
Hopefully I’ll be able to complete a couple of those.
What’s new in the land of Lindsay? (That’s a bit pretentious…referring to myself as a land). I have come to accept that I don’t know how to blog. I barely know how to function. I remind myself daily to breathe (ok, not really, but I barely get by). Blogs are places to air opinions. What do I have an opinion on? I could talk about Haiti, but I’ll leave that to the news. I’m not the news. I’m no Walter Cronkite. I don’t have anything to bitch and moan about. I’m not “hating” on anything in particular. I should add that to my list: form a deep hatred. (The reason I put “hating” in quotations is because it’s not a word that is part of my vernacular. I would feel physically uncomfortable using the word “hating” unless I were to use it in the context of hating a certain movie, things, place or person. I don’t like using it in the sense of “hating on” like being a “hater” or a “playa-hater”… I don’t know or like where this is heading…I digress…I should add that to the list: stop digressing…but that’s another digression. Shoot.)
Seriously, I did make some resolutions…well, a bucket list (I just realized a week ago why it is called a “bucket list”. To “kick the bucket” is to die. I have never witnessed someone kicking a bucket before they die. I don’t get the correlation, but that’s just me).
While in Starbucks (raise your coffee cups up) I composed a well thought out list of things I’d like to do:
1. Listen to “And She Was” by the Talking Heads and “Stand and Deliver” by Adam Ant 5 days a week.
2. Wear sweatpants out in public (I have never done this. Although I have worn socks and sandals together and that is an even bigger fashion crime in my opinion).
3. Lie to someone about who I am. This will likely happen in a bar when someone asks me my name. I will need to come up with an elaborate story about who I am.
a. Wealthy philanthropist
b. Pregnant
c. Former child pageant winner
4. Donate (a liver? Mine is shot. Blood? This is the best option. Clothes? No one wants my rags)
5. Develop an insecurity
6. Get over that insecurity
7. Get on Jersey Shore
Hopefully I’ll be able to complete a couple of those.
What’s new in the land of Lindsay? (That’s a bit pretentious…referring to myself as a land). I have come to accept that I don’t know how to blog. I barely know how to function. I remind myself daily to breathe (ok, not really, but I barely get by). Blogs are places to air opinions. What do I have an opinion on? I could talk about Haiti, but I’ll leave that to the news. I’m not the news. I’m no Walter Cronkite. I don’t have anything to bitch and moan about. I’m not “hating” on anything in particular. I should add that to my list: form a deep hatred. (The reason I put “hating” in quotations is because it’s not a word that is part of my vernacular. I would feel physically uncomfortable using the word “hating” unless I were to use it in the context of hating a certain movie, things, place or person. I don’t like using it in the sense of “hating on” like being a “hater” or a “playa-hater”… I don’t know or like where this is heading…I digress…I should add that to the list: stop digressing…but that’s another digression. Shoot.)
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