Track of the day - Simon & Garfunkle, "I Am a Rock"

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Yep, that's right folks, I'm a rock. A rock with slutty red toenails.

I tried everything else, so the toenails must be it. The last time I was home (which was in the summer and just after the last time I was kissable) I got a pedicure. Since the last time I got any love from a boy preceded my last pedicure, I'm thinking that the little Vietnamese, or Filipino, or Laotian or whatever pan-asian woman who scrubbed and rubbed my feet might have scrubbed and rubbed away my magic... This is a sound form of logic... I'm convinced of it! So a little change for the piggies has to be it, right? So we went to Walgreens tonight and I saw some very slutty red nail polish with a very slight sheen, which was just entirely too perfect to pass up, so here I am with my slutty toes. (I think they will look fabulous in my fabulous Charles David open-toed Barbie shoes when I get back to the city where I left them.) This is my last vestigial theory, so if this one doesn't work out and ends up falling by the wayside, I'm in REAL trouble. (Which isn't to suggest that I don't think my current state isn't entirely 100% trouble to begin with.)

Yes, I am aware that I am obsessing over this quite a bit, but I think that given the circumstances a little bit of obsession is warranted. So, yes, my current state is obsessive, pathetic, action-less, slutty-toed, whiny, and TROUBLE.

Part of me already feels sorry for the next boy who deems me worthy of making out with... It will almost definitely go down one of two possible ways; either A) I will be totally unable to control myself and I will end up swallowing his tongue, or B) I will have totally forgotten what I'm supposed to do in that situation and I will have to end up playing possum (and yes, I am aware that the animal name is actually spelled with an O, but I think for this term it's just a P...) (Besides, nothing starts with an O these days... and if you just got that joke, I want to thank you for being here and reading this! And if you didn't get it, then don't let it keep you up nights... because it likely won't... ba-dum-bum.) and should I play possum, my tongue will lay there like a dead carp or somthing-or-other and I will then stand there with a face as red as a baboon's ass, waiting for the ground to open up and swallow me... And knowing my luck, I get the distinct uneasy feeling that IF I should ever get back on the proverbial horse it will almost certainly be with some random guy who ends up being a horrible kisser and wants to lick my forehead, or bite my nose, or something equally weird and gross. (I've got that kind of luck when I've got any luck at all)

The last paragraph had entirely too many animal references... opossums and horses and baboons! Oh my! (Oh god, did I just make that joke? Please say it isn't so!) With that joke I have come to the realization that I'm slowly turning into my mom... (Which is NOT entirely bad, but it's too much to get into right now... that's a whole other entry.) I love you mom.

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QOTD
12.28.04 - "I can't talk now, Kirsten is helping me cover a hickie, but she wants me to tell you she'll call you soon!" ~ Little "Pippen" Tricia "Juancho" McLinden (At least someone is gettin some real life lovin!)