Stupidity Runs Rampant In 19003
I locked myself out of the apartment while doing laundry in my pajamas. Had to stand in the hallway in the acorns while listening to the über-loud Spanish pop blaring out of my speakers [muffled slightly by our door] until Security came to let me in 15 minutes later. Yeah, I’m a winner. At least I didn’t leave water boiling or something like that. Oh, wait, I do that all the time.
My second class got cancelled [Deborah, I’m truly sorry that you’re ill; you’re too cute to be sick], so I headed off to Genuardi’s, thinking myself clever for taking the back roads. Wound up in a fucking traffic jam trying to make a left turn on Lancaster, the Main Line. Pennysylvania has some sort of vengeance that it likes to exact on rush hour drivers, I swear to god. No rights on red, and every fucking stoplight is so poorly timed. Upwards of 30 cars trying to make the same left that I was, what’s up with that?!!? Then, leaving the grocery store, munching with delicious guilt on a Cadbury Creme Egg [why, oh why am I so weak in the face of Easter candy? I’m not even a practicing Christian?], there were over a dozen cars trying to make a right out of the parking lot. Oh wait, YOU CAN’T TURN ON RED ANYWHERE IN THIS FUCKING STATE. Waited through another 2 light cycles (instead of 3, this time. We’re making progress), turning my quick jaunt to the store into an hour-plus ordeal.
THEN, as if there weren’t enough idiocy on the roads, who on earth decides to BACK OUT ONTO A MAJOR STREET to make a 3 point turn at 4:00 on a weekday? Oh, senile Ardmore residents, that’s who. Yeah, whatever.
More thesising, and a surprisingly fun tutorial with the girls. I [heart] talkative underclasswomen. And procrastinating, c/o Alex Kelly. Apparently I’m One Hundred Years of Solitude
Lonely and struggling, you’ve been around for a very long time.
Conflict has filled most of your life and torn apart nearly everyone you know. Yet there is something majestic and even epic about your presence in the world. You love life all the more for having seen its decimation. After all, it takes a village.
or alternately, Love in the Time of Cholera
Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the one hand, you’ve loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff could get you killed.
Take the Book Quiz
So I’ve got a thing with G. G-M? Sweet.