My roommate and I tend to have our conversations in the kitchen. I’m not really sure why, but I can only assume it’s because it is in between our rooms. I usually do this primal thing where I sit on top of the counters and bar rather than a chair because I am marking my territory. I started to notice that every time Connor and I talked about relationships or dating I started cleaning the kitchen. “Ya, he cheated on me.” said Savannah with Windex and towel in hand. This did not only happen once, but like several times. I’m pretty sure this is the only time our counters have actually been cleaned. I told Connor he could trick me into cleaning the whole house if he could keep me talking about it long enough. We would start talking about our day, school, whatever…no cleaning….then we start talking about an ex-boyfriend and a broom magically appears before me. Better sweep that floor and all the damn memories it came with!
Last night, I had some friends over for a wine night and you know what that means…………………beer and whiskey. I always play the hostess even if people aren’t at my place. I’m always like, “Oh, you’re not having a good time…guess we will just have to take a shot about it.” I fail to remember that if they are taking a shot, I have to take a shot which means this girl almost always gets white girl wasted. I pretty much love this until the next morning when my breath smells awful and I get these evil looks like, Who does this bitch think she is? because I’m ordering a Dr.Pepper at a coffee shop. Screw your gourmet coffee, I’m fucking hungover you cunt! For the record, I only say these things in my mind. I usually go with a solid, “Thank-you.” Cunt.
One of the things I love about drunken nights at my places is that almost every time, someone ends up sleeping in my bed….and almost every time it is NOT me. I’m always like, “Sure you can sleep in my bed. No no, it’s no problem. I really don’t mind at all. No, I’m serious. You worry too much. Go ahead, sleep in bed. I’ll just take the floor.” You fucking whore. Luckily my new apartment has extra spaces for sleeping like this fancy loft above my walk-in closet where I end up sleeping…a mere 8 feet away from falling to my paralysis if I roll over on the mattress one too many times. “But like again, no worries, take the bed. Do you need a pillow? A glass of water? A car…you need a car….just take mine. I don’t really need my heart either. I barely use it.”
There I am, the doormat. I just lie there in waiting. Elegant even. I’ll let you walk all over me. And I’ll probably encourage it with one of those inviting messages like, WELCOME. Welcome to my kitchen, my bed, my car, and then my heart. The more people that walk on me, the more crooked I become. Before you know it, I’m not even in front of the door frame anymore. Welcome to this wall because that’s where I’m now guiding you…And then at the end of the night I will be saying EMOCLEW and not because you’re drunk…although you probably are.
So…what’s been on my mind lately?
1. I often have this strange desire that instead of Kultida (says Wikipedia), I were Tiger Woods’ mom so I could say phrases like, “Go get em Tiger.” and like really really mean it. “Our family is in town. Seriously. Go get them Tiger.”
2. I hate it when I’m really angry about something so I say, “If I have to hear you talk about this one more time I’m just gonna….” because I almost never know what to say after that. What am I going to do about it? Fucking nothing. “If I have you to hear you talk about this one more time I’m just gonna do nothing. Ok?!”
3. I often scroll through wordpress to check out different posts. One of them was titled, “How To Pick an Instagram Filter For Your Gun.” At first, I was like…rise above Savannah. You’re better than this. Different people have different interests. Different strokes for different folks. Then I was like NO, why the fuck are you interested in that you stupid fucking cunt? Why are you having a photo SHOOT with your gun? Get the pun? I always have to ask…just in case you did not get it. Pity laughs are worth it 5 out of 6 times.
4. This New Year’s, instead of making resolutions, I’m going to create problems…99 to be exact. I’ll have 99 problems and a skeeze…will probably be one.
My skeeze of the day goes to Kanye West. I don’t really have a reason. I just went with my gut on this one.