OK, so who complains about spending time with their friends? Seriously. Am I insane? Well OK, I am, but that was rhetorical. I should be grateful I have any friends at all. And I am. Sorta. I'm just not the type for going away from home. Into the wilderness. Yes, there's a house and I'm pretty sure there's running water and electricity, but it's still up the hill somewhere. I'll be without my computer and TV. For the first time in a very long time. *worried* But it should be good, right? I mean, there will have to be alcohol. But I really don't like this group sleeping. No, not like that! Just the six of us in two rooms. Boys too. I don't like them, they snore. Then I can't sleep. Why am I going again?! Oh yeah, cuz they're my so-called friends. Friends that never call or anything. Friends I only see at Sonja's if we happen to be there at the same time. Friends I friendly chat with if I run into them accidentally in the street or train but don't have real interest in their lives. Now that I think about it, can I actually call them my friends? Seriously, why am I doing this??!
My sister is watching Click. And I'm in the room. Meaning I'll probably be watching it too. And I really don't want to. Stoopid Adam Sandler.
I was looking for some interesting blogs to read. After skipping blogs of people interested in bonsai, anthropology and knitting (Sorry, Nic ;) ), I stumbled upon Blogget Jones's Diary. If you want to read about the horrors of dating, check it out. On that note, I'm so happy I don't do that. Dating, that is. Or anything involving men, really. They suck. And not in a good way.
And apparently, this might explain my opinion: I took another online test (I do that a lot, don't I?), Are you a lesbian? and this is my result:
You scored 130
The lesbianity is strong in this one. You love the ladies. Either that or you just like cats and bad music. I bet you've got a good collection of baseball caps. Or are they scalps from your sexual conquests? Oh, no. They're baseball caps (sorry 'bout that).
Go and see for yourself. Then let me know, k?
BTW, I have no baseball caps.
My sister is watching Click. And I'm in the room. Meaning I'll probably be watching it too. And I really don't want to. Stoopid Adam Sandler.
I was looking for some interesting blogs to read. After skipping blogs of people interested in bonsai, anthropology and knitting (Sorry, Nic ;) ), I stumbled upon Blogget Jones's Diary. If you want to read about the horrors of dating, check it out. On that note, I'm so happy I don't do that. Dating, that is. Or anything involving men, really. They suck. And not in a good way.
And apparently, this might explain my opinion: I took another online test (I do that a lot, don't I?), Are you a lesbian? and this is my result:
You scored 130
The lesbianity is strong in this one. You love the ladies. Either that or you just like cats and bad music. I bet you've got a good collection of baseball caps. Or are they scalps from your sexual conquests? Oh, no. They're baseball caps (sorry 'bout that).
Go and see for yourself. Then let me know, k?
BTW, I have no baseball caps.










