Watching/Listening to: ET by Katy Perry ft. Kanye West
Now, I'm not a drinker. Never have been (though, admittedly, when I was six my dream was to be a smoker, and drinker who sat around all day and tanned. I also thought Sonic the Hedgehog was my boyfriend and that I was a Power Ranger, so my judgment wasn't exactly on par). But if I were to drink, let's say, a beer that has a slightly less piss after taste than usual beers, I hypothetically learned my lesson last night. As a word of advice from a masochist to everyone out there who may actually love their bodies, do not make my mistakes, that is, if I committed the actions to make said mistakes. Mistakes like eating Taco Bell at one in the morning and following it up with a drinking game involving dice, two shots of some sort of pale ale with a citrusy after burn, and a friend who is too well practice at such things.
Yeah. Don't do that. You may not be mentally prepared for the hatred your body bestows on you. I have years of practice of torturing my stomach with horrific crap. I'm close to an expert at it. Like the cheeseburger I ate the other with some coffee and ketchup with hot sauce mixed in. How old was the burger? Old enough to make me question my existence, but not old enough to kill me. The moral of that story is: I'm immortal, so stop trying.
I lost the hypothetical game, by the way. I'm just glad it was stopped after one drink, because I am not tolerant of beer in general.
I'm looking for my Dr. Seuss books that my mother has collected over the years for my brother and myself during our childhood. I owe a friend's kids a reading, and can't seem to find them. I may have to muster up and go to the library at some point. Or, you know, buy copies for myself since mums won't relinquish the memories she's slaved over for some reason. Mothers, you gotta love them, but you can't ever understand them.
So, I had a meeting with some partners in crime (technically Victimology) with whom I'm creating a presentation to give to the class on a scenario handed out by the teacher several weeks ago. Nothing says we take you seriously as a professor like waiting until the last minute to put minimal effort into a huge portion of your grade. Anyways, so, it's me and two other girls in this group. Our scenario is that as two people leave the library late at night they are robbed at gun point. We have to show how the crime would be handled, what the victims go through, how law enforcement is involved and so on.
I'm the villain. I have a costume and everything and I'm getting a name tag that says ThugLyf on it. It's going to be awesome if I can steel my gut and pull it off. I may even get to use a water gun against my classmates! I'm going to be wearing one of my bigger hoodies, a beanie, temporary tats, my men's levi's and some boxers. Maybe I'll hold the gun sideways and yell kill shot.
Our preliminary script so far is that the two other girls will be walking from the library and I'll rob them of their pricey cell phones, laptop, and cash. Then I'm going to run away with the goods while trying to stuff them into a bag, pass a police officer who realizes that a fleeing thug with electronics and a gun can be up to no good, get arrested and start my path down Career Criminal Way.
The officer will ask the girl's if they're alright, invite them to the station for formal statements, I'll be 'processed' as in fingerprinted and held overnight. They'll identify me in a line-up, sealing my fate. The Commonwealth Attorney will then tell me that she'll drop the charge of possession of stolen firearm if I just shut up and plead guilty to armed robbery. We'll forgo trial, I'll get 10 years with possibility of parole in 8, and life will continue.
Cool, right? Granted, we still have to work out the details of it all, to make sure it's factual. I was trying to get one of the girls (she works with the police) to get a real cop to come in and do the interrogation thing. None of the cool ones are available on Tuesday, I guess. Lametown.
Anything else interesting happen in my life? Oh yeah. My fucking car got the gas siphoned out of it in the mall parking lot while I was at work yesterday. That's fabulous. It's not like I work for my money or anything. I was a bit pissed about that, in case no one noticed. But it happens, so moving on.
Rewriting this book is killing me slowly, as I have very little drive to write lately, but I've been working on it. Christina is a lot more violent. Six pages in, she's knocked three people unconscious and threatened a half dozen more. Oh, and there's a demon and two hell hounds loose in the school. Sweetness. I do like this version the best so far. I'm basically rough drafting the chapters for now to go back and fill in more details later. My goal is 300 pages maximum, but that's cutting about 96 pages from the previous version. I'll need to outline the hell out of this thing.
So much to do, but summer is almost here, so awesome sauce. I may have time again.