Vacation All I Ever Wanted

September 20, 2006 at 5:15 pm Leave a comment

Right now I’m in Rochester visiting Andy the Boyfriend and his family, most notably his sister, who just gave birth to her second child, a beautiful baby girl appropriately named Serene. All she does is sleep. I can’t say I blame her. I miss the days where I could sleep while swaddled in fluffy pink things.

I couldn’t get out of Philly fast enough. On my last day of work at Stupid & Crazy before I left, there seemed to be some kind of English Twat Convention converging at our store. Usually I like waiting on the Brits because they are unfailingly polite (or can at least fake it) and will tell you how brilliant you are just by answering a simple question. They are tied with old gospel ladies for nicest customers. Old gospel ladies will give you God’s blessing for every task performed. Anyway, this particular English twat got his knickers in a bunch just because we dared to be sold out of a Dream Theater DVD. Dream Theater is like Yes with no tunes and Rush with no rock. And that’s saying a lot. (Hey, I grew up on this shit, so I do know of what I speak). So English twat berates the woman who replaced me at the Info Desk and  my boss saying that we don’t care and we don’t stock stuff on purpose and he’s worried that our store will be out of business in six to eight months.

If it were only that easy, really.

I’d elaborate more on that, but it doesn’t belong on the internet, and I still want at least a few of you to wonder where I work.

Back to Rochester: weather is perfect, 60s during the day, 40s at night. Andy the Boyfriend’s parents house reminds me of the house in Sixteen Candles. Lots of grass, trees, unlocked doors. My headache and sinus probs disappared as soon as I got out of the car (where I vomited on the Justin Timberlake issue of Rolling Stone). My busy intinerary for now is to: sleep, look at the internet, take Andy’s 5-year-old nephew to the museum, sleep, eat garbage plates, go to a Chinese buffett, sleep, lay around and read magazines.

Don’t be surprised if I don’t come back.

Oh and finally, I’m so freakin proud of Maura, I could explode. Go girl, go. Lame whiney bloggers, jealous much?

 

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Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

You Must Be This Tall To Get the Fuck Out Of My Way Happy Birthday Mr Housemate

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