Where was I? Oh yes -- the darkened bathroom.
Well, instead of hoarfing, I ended up passing out with my head on the toilet seat (not terribly comfortable, and certainly embarrassing, but far better than falling asleep with one�s head in the toilet bowl), and I woke again a good thirty minutes later and dragged my sorry carcass off to bed. When I awoke for good around 11:30, I decided it was time to make something of my day.
Unfortunately, I was still pretty brutally hung over, so my decision-making skills were somewhat impaired. I grabbed a pile of clothes that were near the bed and managed to figure out how to make them a complete outfit (and let me tell you that wearing a T-shirt as pants takes a lot of panache, not to mention flexibility), I ventured into the bathroom and discovered an obstinate tangle on my head of greasy, matted hair that was decidedly unsexy. I did my best to coax it into an arrangement that was more user-friendly, but it rebuffed all my advances and settled back into defiant disarray. So I threw on an old, manky hat and set out to run a cavalcade of errands that had been building up on the To Do list for the past couple weeks. The first thing To Do, of course, was to get coffee and go window shopping, which, let�s face it, aren�t going to do themselves, you know?
Well, eventually I ended up stopping off to pick up a couple dress shirts, because I was sorely in need of�okay, that�s a lie. I just wanted to buy dress shirts, is that so wrong? Well, okay, it kind of is, because I was kind of only buying them so I could look real good for the Cute Receptionist. Anyway, I straggle into the store, having left my grungy hat in the car, and that�s when I hear it. What�s �it�, you ask? �It� would be my name. So I look up, directly into the gorgeous, gorgeous eyes of�the Cute Receptionist.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I galumph in at 3:00 in the afternoon in my hangover clothes, with my hangover hair, and my hangover face, and my T-shirt pants, and there he is, all tall and gorgeous and broad-shouldery as ever. When I met his gaze, I wished I could crawl into the considerable bags under my eyes and zip them shut. Alas, this was not to be, and what ensued was a most bizarre afternoon of shopping, during which time he talked me into buying overpriced, sexy underwear (but when the guy you have a really unsuitable crush on starts recommending that you buy inappropriate undergarments, how can you not?), and then into joining him for grocery shopping, which, in my defense, I needed To Do anyway.
We also met some weird lady and had the following exchange:
Lady: I think you should buy this mug. And this matching saucer.Me: I�m sorry, do I know you?
Lady: I�m a mom; hold this platter. Are you boys gay or straight?
Cute Receptionist: We�re gay.
Lady: Well, let me tell you about New York�
I�m sorry, what? And this went on for a good twenty minutes. Anyway, at long last, Cute Receptionist left me standing in the parking lot of the grocery store, perplexed as ever, as he jaunted off to a birthday party, whereat, he told me today, he met �the perfect guy for [him]� who was �exactly [his] type� and blah blah blah, what the FUCK is up with guys???Anyway, that was my afternoon. Tomorrow, you�ll hear about Heather�s ongoing feud with a certain C-list �actress�, whom none of us have ever met. Trust me, all will be made clear. Or �nearly translucent�, I guess I should say. All right, �opaque�.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: crank whore And: Titanic Cruises I�m Watching: Alias. It just gets better and better. I�m Eating: A lot of food I picked out kind of at random, because I sadly couldn�t concentrate when I was doing my grocery shopping this past weekend. I mean, for some inexplicable reason.