No Nicotine is the Reason I've Been So Mean
I've been quitting smoking. I'm really quite good at it. I can do it about once every three days. What happens is - I don't smoke for three days. I feel really proud of myself that I've found quitting so easy. I have a cigarette or two to celebrate my achievement. Then I quit again.
* * *
I actually am not sure if my crankiness is a result of not smoking or because I'm trying to get my room together and I've commenced upon all this furniture rearranging and painting (a light taupe/rose mix). Yes, my room, not my place. I've decided to move back in with my parents for a while. I came to this decision because 1) I'm tired of living paycheck to paycheck (or student loan check to student loan check) and being constantly worried about money and feeling guilty over buying that cute sweater I didn't really need or paying $10 to go see a movie and I have to start paying those god-awful student loans back soon; 2) if I failed the bar I think my firm may put me on unpaid leave to study and then how would I afford to live in an apartment? 3) the outer boroughs of New York are out of the question since if I'm going to live in the outer boroughs I may as well live in NJ with my parents and the only Manhattan apartments I could afford are the tiny shoebox-sized studios in the Upper East Side (which are still at least $1300/month!) and well... my old apartment was cramped enough and it was a two-bedroom. I need space!
Yeah, I know. I'm trying to convince myself it's not horrible. I find myself reverting back to my teenage years. Every day that I come home past, say, nine o'clock (which is basically every day of my life) I find myself creeping warily up towards the house, hoping that my parents won't be upset with me.
Yeah, I know. I'm trying to convince myself it's not horrible. I find myself reverting back to my teenage years. Every day that I come home past, say, nine o'clock (which is basically every day of my life) I find myself creeping warily up towards the house, hoping that my parents won't be upset with me.
* * *
My friend just IMed me.
hey
im on a conf call so i have to act normal
I'm not sure what that means. I'm not sure why she decided the best way to "act normal" was to IM me. And now she is ignoring me. Oops! She's back. She's going to send me the emails she's exchanged with her new love interest who is also her capoeira instructor so that I can parse the meaning of them and determine exactly how into her he is. (Capoeira is Brazilian martial arts. She always picks up really interesting hobbies.) Her email was flirtatious but not overly so. He called her "funny girl." That means he thinks she's adorable.
im on a conf call so i have to act normal
I'm not sure what that means. I'm not sure why she decided the best way to "act normal" was to IM me. And now she is ignoring me. Oops! She's back. She's going to send me the emails she's exchanged with her new love interest who is also her capoeira instructor so that I can parse the meaning of them and determine exactly how into her he is. (Capoeira is Brazilian martial arts. She always picks up really interesting hobbies.) Her email was flirtatious but not overly so. He called her "funny girl." That means he thinks she's adorable.
* * *
I have to go back to painting my room. Bye now.
I have to go back to painting my room. Bye now.
posted by J. at 1:30 PM
5 Comments:
I've never understood why women always feel the need to deconstruct anything and everything a guy says and writes for its 'true meaning'. Guys don't think that much. Not everything we say has some profound, hidden meaning. Sometimes the things we say have absolutely no meaning whatsoever. Sometimes we're just talking shit.
I think quitting smoking is a really stupid idea.
But living at home is a great idea. It certainly makes sense. But I'm not sure about having to sneak into your own house after 9pm. You just need to break them in a bit: go out and get trashed, drive home drunk and smash your car into the garage door, stumble loudly into the house, knock a ton of shit over and make a lot of noise, and then puke all over the living room carpet. Do that a few times and they'll be overjoyed when you tell them that you're just going to a late show with a few friends.
By the way, I'm currently in Fes. In Tangier, I met a woman from NYU who also just failed the NY bar...
CC & LBF
Lucas - That's not true. There is always a meaning! No one operates in a vacuum where he is not being influenced by conscious or unconscious thoughts and desires. So every action has some meaning. Granted, sometimes the meaning is just that the guy is a shithead or really dumb.
Yeah... eek. I hope I didn't fail.
Ange - HAW HAW.
No, it's true. We don't think that much. I haven't said anything in years that could be credited with any kind of substance or meaning, much less any sub-substance.
For example, read deeper into this if you want, but at your own peril: The jar of peanuts on my desk is empty.
GOOD PLAN
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