2004-05-27
Atlanta makes my heart race
I can't wait till July. Yesterday I went to the library and pulled out all the modern-looking interior design books. With those and a splash of ideas from Home Swell Home, our apartment will be nicely decked out. I mean, I already have a dozen ideas for the apartment, style-wise, but it never hurts to have more ideas/options. The more I see skinny, multi-colored stripes, the more I want to paint the walls that way. I'm addicted, officially. And so psyched about everything (not including the next week, read below paragraph below).
Now, here's the required downer for the week, since things can't be too great, otherwise you'd think I was lying: I'm going to have to babysit the kids the first week of June, the most important week of the year. I'm not happy about this at all. Mom doesn't want to have to get another sitter because she doesn't want to have to explain why she needs one (selfish and too prideful, I think), so I'm more than likely gonna be stuck w/them. The first of June is the one-year anniversary of my first date with James (basically when we started dating, because we saw each other every day after that). My brother's trial is on my f'ing birthday, so I can't go out of town or do anything real special for it. I thought a group of friends and I could go to Panama City Beach the day before my birthday and Kim and I could get our traguses pierced together by a guy there, but guess what? I can't do that, because I have to babysit that day, too. I absolutely refuse to babysit the day of my TWENTIETH birthday, so they better have something figured out for the other kids that day. The day after my birthday is James's birthday, and it looks like I might be babysitting that day. Understandably, I'm furious about all this, because it's not like it's news to my parents that I want to do some special things that week, and not be tied down to the kids. It'd be one thing if they were my kids OR if they're paying me for this.....but they're not my kids, AND I'm not getting paid. So, once again things I'm not responsible for are being dumped onto me at the worst times possible. Any suggestions?
So once again, my parents are ruining everything. I know that sounds juvenile, but they've seriously fucked up everything in my life. Which is why I'm not telling them about Atlanta until the day or day before I'm moving, so they don't get a chance to mess that up. Really, it's more Chandler's fault than my parents, but they could at least get another sitter, and they won't. Perhaps I'll petition . . .
I can't till July.
Nick wrote this: Hour 6 Start the new diet craze. Key ingredients will include potatotes and laxatives. People will be incredulous at first. Your first customer, the man with the tie and maw of fat, will ask such dolorous questions as "How does it work?" Look him in the eye. Whisper, "Imagine being the diet pariah of the dinner table. Everyone wishing for your skin." I love it, but would like to edit the line about potatoes and laxatives and add cigarettes as well. Oh yes, they aid in weight loss. On that note, I'm going to go smoke.
aigre-douce at 10:59 a.m.