I borrowed my buddies hard drive last night, and now I sit, copying all of his music- and oh the joy- of being overloaded with free songs! Leonard Cohen, Queens of the Stone Age, Muse, Ministry, Rolling Stones, Lil Wayne, Wu- Tang Clan and sooooooooo many more. Its making the dreary Monday of chores and bills oh so much more exciting! I’ve also recently gotten a roommate- My closest female friend is staying with me, for however long she chooses- maybe a week, maybe a few months, and I embrace every second of it. Granted, after living alone- having someone in the normally empty space is a bit strange- but I’ve missed this girl so very much while she was away on her travels, that having her back is beyond phenomenal.
My brother in law and friend are staying with me for the next two days as well… this little apartment is going to be packed to the brim with fabulousness! I plan on taking him out with us tonight for our usual Monday night rager- because, as well all know, its the best night to party!- and obviously I don’t drink nearly enough these days! lol… oh if only that were the case. But I’ve been reading a ton of Chelsea Handler lately, and she is a lush and lives a famous and fabulous sort of life style, one that deems a bit of respect, and not just a paparazzi shot. And I’ve decided that we’re soul sisters of a sort- as I’ve been becoming a huge fan.
I was fucking this guy earlier this week, hung out a few times, enjoyed each others company… texts throughout the day- he seemed very eager from the get go- and I reciprocated but with perhaps a less desperate feel, but was looking forward to the idea of taking a lover (not a boyfriend, mind you, a lover). Well as of Thursday the fucker stops returning texts, and I ask myself… why? I don’t give a shit if I ever see the poor bastard again, but DO NOT JUST STOP TALKING!!!! I have to tell people all the time that I no longer want to see them, talk to them, want to fuck them- whatever, but I do that with respect for the person in part, but also because I don’t want texts/phone calls that question my desires for the so mentioned person. I just don’t fucking get it, as to why the conversation just ends. I’m hoping he died.
anyway- on that note, I’m finishing my glass of wine and getting my laundry and perhaps masturbating….
xoxox
Morgana