Crap Quantity Overdrive
Decision time: do I skip today's entry or do I fill it with random, boring snippets of crap? Am I going for quantity or quality here?
Quantity, dude. And thus, crap. We had a weekend, or something of one.
Friday, we did something. Or not. I can't really remember. Oh yes, we went to Chef's Market and spent our gift certificate on dinner and coffee. Then, we went to the mall (Mall! On a Friday night! Bad idea! Exposed thongs and "hottie" shirts everywhere!) to spend three ten-dollar "Award" cards we got when we bought our armoire.
I love how it's called an award, like you really earned something prestigious, not like you're going to spend it on socks, like Seth did. I got a pair of Steve Madden shoes (the kind that look like bowling shoes meet Adidas, which are kind of overdone, but they were five freaking dollars after I used two of my "awards"). I also got some fancy make-up from the new Benefit counter! Whoo! That will be a dangerous place for me. I'd best stay the hell away from it.
Saturday, we went to Rosepepper for margaritas and then to the flea market. Note to self: do not wander around a flew market in hot-ass July after margaritas. Not a good feeling. We got Seth a neat vintage shirt, though.
Saturday night, we went to a party at my sister's place (well, the place she shares with her boyfriend). It was her boyfriend's birthday. There were a lot of skinny, highlighted people I didn't know. And also a black dog. Great party. Oh, and my friend Nicole brought two of her friends with her, and I kept calling one of them "Alexis." Her name was Lila? No really, I wasn't even drinking or anything.
Sunday morning, my husband's asshole boss (oh wait! That's also my dad!) called him all frantic, screaming for Seth to come in. Seth had already planned to come in. He works every. Damn. Sunday. Anyway, he worked from 11:00 to about 8:30, and I stayed home and played housewife, cleaning our nasty place and waiting for the furniture people to bring the om-wah (and thus concludes my mentioning the armoire, which by the way is quite cute).
I also attempted to cook, which turned out okay but left my hair smelling a bit like fried chicken. Sexy, no?
I guess that's it. Tonight, Seth will work until I've fallen asleep on the couch, trying to finish this crapassed book and write something nice about it so I can get a hundred dollars.