Sorry, I know I have the Summer Disease (symptoms include lack of updates, not returning notes, and a general lack of fidelity to Diaryland) that is apparently also afflicting most of those on my buddy list. Anyway. How's it going out there?? At the moment, I am putting the suede laces into the sides of this tank top I bought last week. Yes, that's right, I own a tank top that laces up the sides. Don't worry, I got it on sale for like 3 dollars, so it's not a complete departure from my normal modus operendi. In other fashion news, I'm not exactly a blonde anymore. I bought a box of "starry night/bright black" yesterday, destined for the ends of all my hair and a few streaks. After I did the deed, I was reading the box. [Yes, I DID read the instructions before I did it] It reads "Feria is for all skintones and hairtypes. Colour shown may be achieved on medium brown to black natural hair color. On lighter, bleached or highlighted hair, results will be very intense." Apparently, by "very intense" L'Oreal means dark blue. Actually, it's a really cool color. Anyway. My parents tried to convince me today that every single male in my life has a crush on me. They told me Danny likes me, which I contested. Dad: "Yes, that's why he calls you 18 times a day and is always puppy dogging around, asking if you're here." They told me Bobby likes me, which is . . . well, that's actually true. I heard it straight from . . . a girl who heard it straight from him. They also think Clark likes me, just because he wrote me a letter from San Diego while he's away with the Navy. Which I doubt, because he only wrote me because I first wrote him. Although I know better than to trust my own perceptive powers when it comes to males in my own life. I'm like habitually oblivious to the overtures of the gentlemen with whom I come into contact. It's really disgusting. Anyway, this is all boring and hardly worthy of posting. Today my boss paid me $20, plus $10 gas to go to the bank for him. It's like half an hour away and he couldn't get away from the motel for some reason, so he called me and apologized for bugging me at home on my day off, then begged me to deposit some money into Clark's account for him. Blast! It's 11:19 already . . .I promised myself I'd be in bed by 11 tonight, yet here I am, writing here and talking to this dewd Eric on AOL. Which, by the way, you people really need to add me to because I only have a few buddies and therefore few people to talk to when I'm online. But I digress. My point was, I wanted to be in bed early because Bobby will be here at 7:30 tomorrow morning to accompany my mom and my brother and me to Vacaville for a day of outlet shopping. Wee! I am in dire need of jeans because like five months ago I gave away all the ones that don't fit me, which was almost all of them except my work pants. Why do I have to drive two hours to Vacaville to shop for pants? Because I have to have the Long sizes, which can apparently only be obtained in sizes 11 and 3 at regular stores. So, Levi's outlet here I come. Bobby wants to go to the Vans outlet . . . I want to, as well, but I should probably stay out of there for the sake of my checking account balance. Vans are the best. My mom wants to look at kitchen gadgets or something. I don't know. And stuff. So yeah. See you all down the road. |