Friday, September 14, 2007

Graduation Celebration Pt. 2: Thursday's "Weeds," Pyjamas and Tostitios

Sure, it's more exciting to go out and get trashed and make mistakes and then report back to you, my readers, but there's something to be said about some quiet "me" time, too.

Last night I was supposed to meet The Chef for drinks but he flaked; my Plan B also turned out to be a flake (I believe that's strike three, my dear, no?), so I finally curled up on my couch in my favorite flannel PJ's with some Tostitos Scoops and chunky salsa.

Before that, I washed my dishes- MYSELF- and swept and mopped the floor. I cooked a handful of shrimp and ate them with some roti (YUM!) and then tackled the mess in my bedroom (I sold my bed is no longer a's a closet). I watched some more videos by that crazy Avril-look-a-like Britney fan on YouTube (he's quite possibly just too gay to function) and an old episode or two of the 90's sitcoms "Titus" and "Friends".

I spoke with my aunt about her house in PR, cooking and crazy Dominican superstitions. We both shared memories of grandma (wow...we really still miss her a lot!) and she issued warnings about being money-wise.

Then I settled in for the night with the latest episode of "Weeds" the best show on cable- I that crazy bitch has HEROIN in her house that they stole from the Mexicans AND she drove the car in a drive by...shit is about to hit the fan! I ate the suggested serving size of Tostitos (Mari!), shot the shit with L, mostly about boys and the use of the word "heretofore" and then let my iTunes and Junot Diaz's latest novel lull me to sleep.

There were no deviant sex acts, no liver damage and no mind-altering substances consumed, unless you count the yummy-ass stir fried spicy shrimp and roti I devoured. I participated in none of my usual blog post inducing activities and yet, I had a really good night. A clean kitchen. Good food. Family and friends.

A celebration for one.


The MASTER OF FINE ARTS...I never get tired of writing that...

*smooches...learning to become my own best friend*
Philosophy is the talk on a cereal box.
Religion is the smile on a dog.
I'm not aware of too many things,
but I know what I know if you know what I mean.