Day 193
Photos on facebook may turn me into a uni-bomber. No one should post drunken pics of me where I look like a whale wearing a tarp. No one includes fat and skinny friends alike, especially fat ones. You know who you are. So, I finally got my friend, who only posts nasty pics of me, to not tag me when another friend, started tagging me in every one of these photos. The worst part of all is that not only do I look like a drunken fat-ass, wannabe meth addict, I didn't know, for quite some time that I was tagged. So, everyone I know could've seen me like that. Well, everyone besides my parents because they are afraid of the internet, if they ever did figure out how to be on facebook my brother and I made a pact not to friend them.
What's a girl to do? Well, I've given this some thought. There is no avoiding cameras these days, so I've decided to wear elaborate disguises when I go out. This way when I get tagged people won't know it's me, unless they recognize the same tarp I was wearing from the last drunken photo shoot. Shit, this is going to take much more than a fake mustache.
In an effort to make myself feel alive this morning, I watched a few episodes of Degrassi Junior High. Despite the crazy 80s styles, the storylines have a wacky after-school special feel to them. In one episode the main character of that day was confronted with whether or not she should go against her mother's wishes to buy a bra. She does and then the boys at school snap at it and tell her she stuffs. She explains that the bra "gives her shape." The next episode was one where the girls thought one of the teachers was a lesbian. She wasn't. But, she did say, "I kiss all of my female friends." The best part though is that the girls started using the word, "Lezzie" for lesbian, and this was supposedly a huge slam. I couldn't stop laughing. How could anyone take that as a slam? That's the most hilarious sounding word I have ever heard. That's it, starting tomorrow I am callling everyone, "lezzie."
Not only was there bras and lezzies there was the episode where the brother to the 8th grade president was going to have his buddies over to watch a porno called, Swamp Sex Robots. The only bad part about that episode is that the boys didn't get to watch it, which meant I didn't get to watch it. But, I may look for it in videostores, though I am sure it was fictional. I really do want to see how a junior high show interprets porn, especially robots fucking in wetlands.
When I finally made it out of my room today I met up with my bodyguard and a friend for a late lunch/dessert. We ended up at a vegetarian health food cafe though none of us are vegetarians, or particularly healthy. My bodyguard had a shake just as me and my friend were finishing up our hippie omelets. When asked how it was he said, "It's borderline too healthy tasting." My friend rubbed his belly and said that he was feeling kind of ill. He attributed this to the level of healthiness in his meal. I too experienced this natural food nausea, but for some reason I had the smell of urinal cakes in my nose as well. Boy, health food can sure fuck a person up.
To get rid of our health food hangovers, we left the restaurant and walked to a thriftstore. Okay so that's a lie. We went there for another reason. About a month ago I bought a mug with whales on it for my friend as a birthday gift. He is a fellow writer who penned a story with whales in it once. The only problem is, is that this mug has become one of my favorite possessions. In fact, I am drinking out of it right now. Now, when I purchased the mug that now goes by; the mug that was formerly a gift, there were two other mugs with whales on them that I didn't buy. These mugs weren't nearly as awesome, but if I never invite him over he will not know the true awesomeness of the original. The mission: check to see if any of the mugs were still there.
When we walked in, I spotted one from far off. I was surprised they hadn't all sold. I had a hissy trying to get past gawkers. It was as if I'd really believed that the mug that hadn't sold in over a month would be taken from in front of my very eyes. It wasn't. When I went up to purchase the mug not only did the crazy old man behind the counter only charge me $1.09 (the last mug was $2.40) he told me that he'd sell me the earrings in the case for 8 bucks instead of 15. When I got outside and looked at the dangling earrings I had to buy I asked my friend, "Do you think these once belonged to a stripper?" He answered, "For sure, but she didn't put them in her ears, she put them in her labia. You'd better soak them in alcohol." I laughed at the time, but I am afraid to take them out of my purse.
At supper tonight I was joined by one of my favorite men from Mexico. He told me that he is planning on moving away. I told him I would miss him. Then we started talking about how I was invited to go stay with him and his family in Mexico in May. He told me of all the things we could do, the places we could go in his truck. He told me that I would have no expenses there. I wouldn't even have to worry about food, he would take care of everything. I had a Pretty Woman moment in real life, and I didn't have to become a prostitute first. This also sounds like a plot line for a murder, a Patti Hearst-type documentary, or a love story. Now if I can only decipher which, oh well, there will be plenty of time on the plane for that. To Mexico!
Tip of the Day: Don't ask your mother for a hangover cure, she will just laugh at you.
-Canadian Castaway
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