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2006-01-11 - 3:25 p.m. i wanna fucking tear you apart - she wants revenge i just got home awhile ago....from amoeba, or, the greatest record store ever. adam had spent the night with us, we didn't screw around with him. him and his b/f were supposed to come over for dinner, but, the b/f got stuck at work and adam decided to come alone. we ate and then he and i kept drinking margaritas, since neither of us had to work today. we also decided to smoke a coupla bowls, so, he stayed the night. bedtime wasn't too awkward. it was a little weird having him head to the spare room while matty and i went to our room. i don't know... this morning, we were gonna have breakfast, but i told him i had an idea and wanted to go to amoeba. he was down, so, off we went. that place is like vegas. you lose all sense of time in there. we were in there for 2� hours. we'd split up, get together and laugh at old groups like, ready for the world, then split up again. we finally made it out of there and headed over roscoes chicken and waffles for some grub. so yummy. i called patches to see if we could meet up, but, she had a full day and adam and i weren't planning to be there at 3, which was probably the earliest we could've hooked up with her. it was a quick trip. we were there by 10:30 and back by 2:30. pretty quick. i talked to matty's mom for like 20 minutes the other day. oy. matt was grocery shopping, and i was on my knees on the kitchen floor cleaning the grout with a toothbrush....that's normal, right? whatever. i almost didn't answer the phone cuz i was pretty into it. anyway, i answered w/o looking at who it was and there i was, on the line with mattys' mom. shit fucking shit. after i told her he was out, she proceeded to ask how i was, and what i'd been up to. just like trying really hard to keep the conversation going, you know? i tried to be articulate. is articulate the right word? what i'm trying to say is, i tried to not be mono-syllobic. which, by the way, was fucking hard. like you have no idea how hard. i was trying to speak up, talk more than i normally would, not mumble, and not pass out from embarrassment, AND be attentive to what she was saying and be respectful because she's my boyfriends mom and just like a bunch of stuff, you know? all of this while hoping against hope that my beloved would walk in the door, now. okay, now. now. how 'bout now. now. you get my point. we got off the phone. was it fucking boiling hot in the kitchen, or was it just me? matt got home like 10, 15 minutes later i was still embarrassed. he was like, hey, prettyboy and i blushed and mumbled, hey. he thought i was bothered by him calling me prettyboy, cuz sometimes it bugs me.... oh god, why am i writing about this? later |
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