How I spent my weekend

So Friday night, I had absolutely no intention of going out because I wanted to go home, drink and finish reading Twilight. I'm not even kidding. I was halfway through my third beer when I realized that it was also my last beer. I was slightly buzzed so there was no desire to drive to the store. Smart girl that I am, I called Mommy. I told her to come over so that she could see the bookcases that I built because they looked so nice, and asked her to stop by the beer store on her way over. I didn't think it was going to work but it did. She came over and used her spare key to come in. I knew I shouldn't have given her one. She looked in my fridge and told me to get dressed. She clearly didn't like what she saw: an empty corona box, hot sauce, pickles, mustard, MD 20/20. I like to keep it classy. She was worried that I wouldn't have any food and that I would drive to get some if I got hungry. She was completely disregarding the plethora of Chinese food sitting on the ottoman in front of me. I was hungry when I ordered it so I ordered enough for 4 people; of course I ate it all that night. She said the only way I was getting more beer was if she could buy me groceries too. She drives a hard bargain.

It's nice to go grocery shopping when you're drunk and don't have to worry. She got me a shit ton of food, she was literally walking down the aisles and throwing shit in the cart. She was getting stuff that I haven't eaten since I was little but it's all good. I'm a hungry hungry hippo so I'll inhale that shit. We finally went to the beer store and then we went home. We took all the shit inside and she saw the bookcases. She was actually impressed with how clean my apartment was. Clearly, she doesn't come over very often because my apartment is always clean as shit. As usual, she went thru my closet and all my drawers to make sure that I didn't have any of her shit. I hate it when she does that. I'm her only child, it's my job to steal borrow her stuff, duh.  We finally settled in on the couch to read. She didn't want to read my vampire book so she read my Cosmo instead. I would have read it out loud to her! She left around midnight to go home and made me promise that I wasn't going anywhere. At this point, I was pretty drunk and swore up and down that I wasn't going to leave my apartment.

I sprawled out on the couch and continued reading while also revamping my blog and playing around on Stumbleupon.com. That shit is addictive! I was halfway through the book, done with the blog and ready to go to bed. It was 3 AM at this point. My neighbor came home with 2 sluttactic girls. I've never actually met this guy but I've heard that he's a weirdo. I didn't really get a good look at him though the peephole, that thing's only so big! I was fairly certain that they were going to have a threesome. I have no idea what led me to that conclusion but I was eagerly awaiting the sounds of fornication. I sat on the floor in my living room, with a glass held up to the wall, with my ear attached to it. I sat and listened, all I could hear them talking about was what he was going to play. I was confused. Were they going to play a game? That's lame. And then I heard it. I would recognize Elton John anywhere. This man was playing Tiny Dancer, on the piano! I got so excited that I nearly dropped the glass and broke it. He was serenading girls with Elton John. What? I was actually kinda confused because he looked a little too goth for all that. He played some other songs, some I didn't recognize. He plays really well; I sat there for awhile and listened through the wall. This is a sign that I'm going to be that crazy, nosy neighbor when I get older. It's a good thing that I'm allergic to cats!

I spent the rest of the weekend on the couch, drinking, finishing Twilight and starting New Moon. I woke up this morning and immediately wished that the day was already over so that I could come home to drink and read. This might be a problem. I thought about the day and then realized that tomorrow is Tuesday. I start back at the restaurant tomorrow morning; I'll be doing doubles on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I actually curled up in the fetal position and cried a little bit. I. HATE. THE. RESTAURANT. You're probably thinking that it can't be that bad. No, it really is and the worst part is that it sucks you in like a black hole. I just keep reminding myself that I'm only there to make money for new furniture. I can do this...right?!


  1. I love it when my mom buys me groceries! My fridge currently looks about as sad as yours did.. except that I'm good on beer for the next decade.

    Your neighbor seems.. interestingly creepy. I like to be nosy with mine, too, but their just young party girls.

  2. Love when i aint spending my money lol

  3. I have definitely had those days where I'm like, "I just want to leave work early, go home, make a gin and tonic and blog. Fuck work."

    And don't worry, I am the nosey neighbor too. I think we all are to an extent. =)

  4. And apparently I wasn't following you even though I swear I clicked the follow button decades ago.. I guess that explains why I wasn't getting any of your post updates.

    Oh well! Problem solved. =)

  5. Wildly entertaining post! I laughed so hard at "empty corona box, hot sauce, pickles, mustard, MD 20/20. I like to keep it classy" Sounds just like my fridge, except replace Corona with Mike's Hard Lemonade (I like the girly stuff).

    Know how you feel about restaurant work. It really sucks, did it for 3 years. Chin up! Better things are on the horizon!




  6. Been there. Drinking and reading twilight. I think we'd get along veryyy well. I just found your blog a few minutes ago and I am already intriged. You've got yourself a follower. I look forward to reading more! Keep that fridge full {of drinks!}
    -Sarah livinglifelakeside.blogspot.com

  7. Your mom is a freakin gem for buying you all that food! I WISH La Madre would do that for me. Psshhhh. I guess she has to focus on her other 3 kids tho. . .like they matter. . .*rolls eyes*

    Everyday I just want to blog and leave work. Ain't no shame in that.