In the wee hours of the am I got to read my favorite person's blog and I realized that I don't do shit with mine. So, here's some nonsense for you. Because when you really like someone, their nonsense is actually quite interesting (or maybe it's just me). For me, when I read about his nonsense, I feel like I'm there experiencing nonsense with him. It's enjoyable. I could sit around and do nothing with him and still be content.
I haven't lost my bet with Killer yet, I'm just taking a break. I need to relax a bit and get bored before I start homework. I'm still baffled as to how a name like Killer could feel so special to me but it just is.
My Killer. lol.
Today I went to the temple and McScumbag paid an unwanted visit. He calls me EVERY day and I give him the same nasty attitude and he just doesn't get it. I feel bad for making Nat talk to him during lunch because I sure as hell wasn't going to acknowledge his existence. He calls me to hang out when I have better things to do, like laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling. He calls to tell me things that I don't ask about in the first place. He calls me at 2am when I've clearly got someone else on my mind. He calls right back when I ignore the first call. What. Do. You. Want?
The temple has grown into something a little less personal for me. I know about 5% of the people there when I used to know maybe 90%? I remember being able to grab lunch and pick out a spot to sit anywhere on the grounds but now we have to scramble to grab seats at the table...there are just people EVERYWHERE. And, they think it's fine to leave their trash at their table. Uh hello?
Went to Berkeley temple with Peter and Dee for a Know Your Rights meeting with all the grandpas and grandmas of the temple. A couple weeks ago, a rude neighbor trespassed the grounds on a Friday, began snapping pictures of the old folks cooking for the monks, then called the popo claiming "They were cooking on a Friday when the agreement was that they could only cook on Sundays!" No shit sherlock. People need to eat EVERY day. The monks aren't allowed to cook for themselves...duh. The hearing is next Tuesday and I'm pretty sure we've got this down. *Knock on wood* Today we explained all that goodness that is the 4th Amendment and all that you need to know when a popo comes a knockin.
After we left, Peter made a bet with me that if the Niners won then I'd have to go bowling. And I did. I desperately felt the need to go home to do homework ( I "felt" the
need to do hw, not the same as feeling the
want to do it) but the Niners friggen won. Fortunately I wasn't the loser out of both games, I was second loser. I hate being so awful at something as lame as bowling. I hate to be awful at something especially if I'm sober because then I don't have an excuse for being awful. The key is swinging a little slower. I would usually chuck the stupid ball down the lane and expect to knock down all the pins and 9 out of 10 the ball would hurl straight for the gutter. From the last time I went bowling with Peter and his bf Jump, my highest score was 30something. This time I got 80something. I bowled a strike when Peter told me to pretend the middle pin was McScumbag's face. I also bowled a gutter when he told me to pretend the middle pin was Killer's. Making me blush and shit. Not cool.
Anyways, it's 8:40pm, still haven't touched my hw. And at midnight me, peter and his bf jump are supposed to surprise Nat at her house with some vodka shots. Hopefully she doesn't read this.
Miss you.
