I can't look at the St. Urho picture with Gabe anymore. So, after a little celebrating last night, and on the verge of another Irish carbomb tonight after my first Blue Moon, I figure I'll get enough in me to really toss down something great here. It was exactly a year ago today that I started working at Quiznos, and I have been offered a salaried position by my boss sometime in the coming six months, barring any legal trouble or the oven catching on fire because seventeen-year-olds send paper plates with cookies on them on the little wire conveyor belt perfectly unaware of paper's general flamibility. Yeah, I'm feeling that Blue Moon. My face is a bit warm. My brother's college friends are all over, playing Xbox golf when not watching basketball. It makes things loud and slightly obnoxious, just like you should imagine my voice when these words fly through your head.
Okay, since my defenses are down, since there is truth in wine, I'll just admit I want to hear from Lynnea sometime, but that's because I'm only acting like I don't care about all that stuff I puked up a bit ago.... that's metaphoric. I haven't actually puked, not from alcohol, not ever. I meant my diatribe v. the new administration and their policies. The one I'm most worried about now are these Leadership scholarships, because I would have gotten a lot of money had they existed when we were there since I'm hot and smart. Wait, I'm hot, and smart.... why am I single? Probably because on a Saturday night I'm blogging to you people instead of getting Stella's groove back. I really don't know what that's supposed to mean, since I don't know a Stella. I really don't have anything to throw down here. I'm just freaked out by giant statues with grasshopers on pitchforks, and Gabe since he's really got all the heart head and home stuff that my life seems to lack. And I'm freaked out by our mutual silence. I'm so insecure. I just want to hear people's voices, even if it's in my head while reading their comments about simmering down and not worrying about things.
Well, I just tossed down the Guiness with the shot of Irish Creme, and I'm a little bit more dixxy than I was. I really can't even look at the computre screen just because it's a bit too bright for me to stare out for very long. I hope there's no permenant damage. I actually feel very aware of everhything, if that makes sense. So, being aware of everything, looking very hard at the three pictures of leaves that grace my brother's wall, feeling my head slide back and forth much faster than I thought it would, wow. Oh, and V for Vendettea isn't that greate except for Natalie, I mean just very hard to take seriously with Guy Forks and all that stuff. A bit overdone, tha'sall I can thinka nd I think this is the feeling that most people want when they're trying to get a boxx. Woah. Tingly fingers. That's sweet. I wonder how much more would get me to drunk. Dodon't worry. I'm not drunk yet, I don't think,l just not in a plce where I can look at the screen without feeling a bit weird. Well, what a journey we're all on, eh? IJ gotta get going because I think that I've alraedy lost all your repsect tonight, or removed the illuision of respect that I put there because I thought.... oh crap, who knows? Maybe I did this whole thing intentionally without alcohol just to be funny. I don't think I'm that good. Sorry for wasting your time and this space. I'm feeling pretty normal again. You all miss me, and you know it. Oh, to close, Bailey's is a good supplitmenat to Guiness, andI want other people to write bacues I'm ovbiously not getting anywhere after a few bverers and some crazy times with my brothers college rooomeates. I could fix the spelling mistakes, but I don't want to and maybe it's just a trick, anyway. You'll never know, eh? This wa sfun. I'm already home, so I'mnot driving. Peace out homie. This can't be funny. Where's some Crown rules to guide me now? Mabye that's not funny. Or not. Somebody write! Remember, remember the fifth of November.