Preppy is the New Hipster

I no longer feel like I want to commit suicide. RSK is leaving. Yes, I am pissed that he beat me to it, but I know it is for the best. Although I imagine I will dwell on him for a little while, which is only natural, but eh.
There is one thing that I am stuck on that I wish I could react to, but its too late. He always likes to call himself a big asshole. He is actually a polite asshole, but perhaps I liked his personality trait of his because it allowed my bitchy personality to really come to fruition. I mean as much as I would like to say I am one of those nice sweet girls. I don't really think that is true. I am not that nice or sweet, as I am sure many people will attest to. I don't mind. I like the way I am, it works for me.
So what I think I want now is some dumb guy, I mean really dumb and semi-attractive. Actually I think I would rather be committed to a mental hospital with no alcohol, then share a bed with some mediocre looking moron.

just barely.
I am exhausted, emotionally, physically and existentially. No time to dwell there is plently this week to keep me distracted from my emotional conundrum. Like:
Cooking, cleaning, shopping tonight
Pamela's birthday dinner tomorrow night
Matthew Barney's lecture wednesday night(note to self buy jar of petroleum)
Black Gold screening at American University on Thursday night
Friday party prep
Saturday Party prep
Squash this weekend
Oh and I am also supposed to fit in, school applications, taxes, mixtapes, window ordering. So yes, I do in fact want to slit my wrists.

I think this is why growing up is so scary to me. Serving coffee and dessert. Relaxing on the weekends. Discussing IRA and investment accounts. Dave telling me over dishes that he is excited to go to bed, and me agreeing with him. Desperately clinging to the spontenatity of days gone by, I have decided to make a change. The research has begun, the "wheels"(oh god, cheesy puns are part of growing old, aren't they?) are turning.

Next change, single speed bicycle.

yeah.

Though I like the thought of including her, I am shaking in my boots at the thought of her actually attending. Potential disasters could insue-her talking to MPC-who she is not the most fond of; her talking to RSK-she doesnt know him, but she certainly is not the most fond of his boss(but he wont come so it is really a non-issue). Other potential issues. The new boy, talking to the xbf, and the current fbf(fake boyfriend), again non-issues bc the x-bf and the f-bf are going to be no shows.
Actually it would be fun, but I would have to kick her out with the two year olds.
oops.

Years ago, when I was 23, young, drunk and immature, I broke a window in my house. The story is an odd one, and I dont have time to go into it. However, this behavior is still haunting me to this day. I have to take a day off next week to go get it fixed. Needless to say, I am not so happy about it.

So its weekend two in the new house, and I could complain because I love to do it so much, but I won’t because there are other more petty things to bitch about. Well. It was actually rather appropriate all around. Friday night, Tweaks and I gave into the fact that we are getting to be the old and wrinkly women that you all guessed we were, we decided to check a local neighborhood restaurant (no, sadly not Ruby Tuesday, which will be reserved for special occasions only). I forget what it was called, but it seemed the right thing to do. I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy the food, though I liked it about as much as I liked the imitation diego riveras art on the wall--couldn’t really be bothered to form an opinion about it. Which I guess if you are Picasso that is like the worst insult ever. (“Art is supposed to make one feel” –PP-I know I know, it sounds like it should be coming out of a Modern Lovers song.) Anyway, it was fine. Tweaks observed that this is where the white people who have moved into the neighborhood go to feel closer to the neighborhood latino roots. She is not wrong. Next time, I think I’ll check out the pupuseria.

I played Squash on Saturday, and my body can still not move properly. Hmm.

Saturday we had some friends over for dinner. Pamela, Agatha, and Andrew. It was good, Tweaks is a chef, which is something I know I have been over already. It was fittingly appropriate, good food, nice house, good friends, sub-par wine and plastic silverware. Our new friend Andrew brought over some footage of sharks and the combination of beauty and grossness made his esoteric knowledge of the creatures interesting to even me, the most superficially interested person I know.

Dinner was over and we sipped on agathas bottle of wine(it was gross sorry ags), and then headed over to our first party in the neighborhood. Matthew threw a fantastic “under the sea” themed party with a band, trampoline and beer bong in all. A merry time was had by all, and even some post party mischief. Thankfully, the moving transition is slowly disappearing much in the same way that I was disappearing into my couch yesterday during my weekend recovery. There is more to know, but if you want to hear it talk to my assistant so she can arrange a face to face, at which time you will be given the opportunity to compliment me on my rad new haircut.

Ipod purchased.

I know I drop the rudeness call more than hovah drops franklins, or more than snoop dog drops things that are hot, but I think it is totally rude that people don't say something when other people sneeze in the office. I am sure as hell not saying "GOD bless you" but bless or gazuntight(sp?) is just common curtesy. Am I wrong? No, no I'm not.

Particularly the ones that believe in personal fiscal responsibility! I am getting on this new health care plan at work. Health Savings Account. I am not going to go into the details, but it so rocks, google it for yourselves. The best part? Finally, I can get a doctor that was trained in the first world!

I know this is a hard question. I have some cash on hand. I kind of want to get the little red ipod with a cute little LRB engraved on the back, satisfying both my desire to get a tattoo, and my desire to fit in. What do you think?

I think I am going on hiatus for a while. I could say that work and other obligations are true, but it is not totally true. Recently, I have been called both preppy and hipster by three separate people I care about. Thats fine you know, but I have responded both times with something like "I am undefinable". I hate myself for saying this, while I think it is true, uttering the words makes me want to vomit. I am going to instead stick with my old mantra, "labels are limiting" and go on a no label diet. Obviously this mean cutting out anything and everything that embraces labels, and all of their background implications. Ciao!