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Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Snap, Crackle, Pop

A dear friend of mine has recently complained that Rice Crispies just are not as good as she remembered them as a child. I am inclined to agree. Not only is the cereal predominantly air, it's freak'n expensive. Or maybe that is just the college student in my talking.

Life after college is not what I expected it to be ... granted I didn't have any real expectations just a vague sense of "it has to be better." But noooooo.

Then again I am currently employed part time (Great news about that, but later), living at home (eek) in a freakishly tiny room (can anyone say smaller than a dorm room?), and my car is once again smooshed.

My freaking car is a magnate for disaster. Not only does nothing actual work in a manner designed for it, but it has been less than six months (okay almost exactly six months) since it last had a booboo. I do not know how these things happen to me, but they do and it is really irritating.

I was having the worst day ever, at least in recent memory. The night before I had stolen some of my sister's Chinese food only to find out it had been sitting out since lunch ... it did not agree with my digestive tract and I ended up with mild food poisoning (Yucky). By the afternoon I was bored enough to adventure outside all by myself and headed straight for the library. Mistake one.

I was patiently waiting for a car/truck/van thing to pull out of a space in front of me when the jeepy wannabe thing starts backing up, right into my car. I layed on the horn (which might not actually work) but they didn't hear that and in fact the stupid kid (yes he was definitely a kid) didn't even realize he had backed up into something until his car wouldn't go backwards anymore.

My passenger side door got taken out by tire. His freaking jeep wannabe thing didn't even have a scratch and mine has no right side mirror and a dent in the door. *fume*

Still not feeling very good I get out and find myself face to well not face because he was so short and pimply faced, and seventeen. He so did not look seventeen. He looked like a sickly sixth grader.

Anyway then we had to wait for the police (neither of own the cars we're driving) and it took forever. Also, on a completely unrelated note one of the other guys in the car swapped numbers with me (I have no idea what compelled me to agree ... I just. I don't even know.) And then, this is the punch line, he texts me the next day from his mom's phone. Seriously. His mom's phone. I cannot emphasis that enough.

His reasoning? His phone was out of minutes. Then he proceeds to text me obnoxious, totally obvious pick up lines. Desperate much. (We're not even going to touch on the fact that I actually agreed to giving him my number, it was a minor psychotic break down and will most likely never be repeated. Hopefully). I gave half hearted replies... I know it's shocking that I actually replied, but well, it's really boring here. 'Nough said.

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