2004-07-22 - 11:16 a.m.
SKIPPING WEDNESDAY
Yesterday, I skipped the day. Have you ever skipped a day before? Like you just weren�t present, like you somehow managed to skip between the lines of human interaction? That was me yesterday. The Honey left for Comic Con in San Diego yesterday, and since he stepped on the plane I�ve been feeling like I�m under water. Have I shed my Independent Girl cape for a mealy mouthed Dependent Girl twin set? I shudder at the thought.
Summer television is my weakness, and helps get my mind off the 15-page paper on Antony and Cleopatra that I�m avoiding. Nip/tuck is a sick ass show to which I�m now addicted. After my roommate cancelled HBO, I wondered if there was a cable television show that could possibly replace the sickness that is Six Feet Under. Enter nip/tuck. In the month that I�ve been watching it, I�ve seen a clitoris made out of a toe, a woman (with her legs up in the air) having sex with multiple partners in a hotel room, countless bare asses, and a man whose nose was broken when the woman sitting on his face sneezed. It�s debauchery at its finest, and as soon as I get a free weekend I plan to rent and watch season one. Apparently, I�m late to jump on this bandwagon, but I avoided the first season because it was the new hotness, and the new hotness inevitably sucks ass.
When I skipped Wednesday, I didn�t skip television. In fact, I spent my afternoon off in bed watching TV. I�m lookin� at you, Jennifer Grey, star of Wind. Why are you haunting me? When I was at The Honey�s house last week, his sister, The Beautiful Girl Who Loves Jamaican Ska (H. help me out, what should your code name be?) was watching Wind. When I turned the TV on yesterday, it was on right at the point where she and I stopped watching it. Weird. So, Universe, unless I�m supposed to chuck this editing gig, meet a rich benefactor who�ll buy me a sailboat, and start competing in regattas, I�m not sure what the message was. If you�re out there, Universe, e-mail me and make the message a little more clear.
I can�t believe it�s Thursday�Yeah Yeah Yeahs day. Yet another day when I will imbibe mass quantities of margaritas before stumbling down to the free show, spying a structure to stand on, and contemplating showing Karen O my tits.
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