Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Chapati

The last four days have been a ball of reliably unexpected fun. I took Banana Chic, Prudie and Supermodel Ogre sightseeing, shopping, and vegan-restaurant-hunting. Made a pact with the girls and promised myself I wouldn't buy anything, but ended up swiping my card more than all of them combined. Where will my next meal come from?! Why didn't I think about textbooks?! Why did I end up with the Sexuality card?! Damn witch! Seek support group, my ass!

I bought another pair of shoes and tried justifying it to Banana Chic, saying 44 is an unlucky number -- she's Chinese, she must know -- and I couldn't have it floating around in my closet -- she must understand. She said what I really needed was something other than my computer ("You have a permanent radioactive glow on your cheeks") and to go out and find a good man to obsess over because if shoes really satisfied me, I wouldn't need 44 pairs. Then she proceeded to make fun of my phone conversation with M. Biologique:

"You have rat poop all over your apartment? Well, you deserve it. Teeheehee. You're a moron, Lily. Don't hide underneath those covers because you're blushing. It wasn't his stupid French impersonation -- you know you were flirting! Oh, stop it, heeheehee. He's an asshole. And you're a moron."

I object -- rat poop is strictly business.

***

Oh man, fake fish and fake cream cheese is sooooo good. I can eat rabbit food forever ...

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