The last time Paul McCartney played a show in San Diego, I wasn’t even born yet. But I grew up listening to the Beatles because my dad would blast their records and play along with his guitar when I was a kid. I always thought he was their biggest fan, but Anthony might be giving him a run for his money.
Since none of our friends are going to the show with us, I’ll probably have to be Anthony’s emergency contact for when he faints like a fangirl at a Michael Jackson concert! Ha. When I asked my dad if he wanted tickets for his birthday, he said that he already bought tickets for himself, my mom and their friends before I even got mine. My bad, presale! Maybe someone else can be Anthony’s emergency contact after all.
I def have a type. I would’ve replaced my Matrix with another, but Toyota discontinued them last year, and I really wanted to buy myself a brand new car. After driving a rental for almost a month, I finally found a car that I love! It’s a charcoal gray hatchback just like my Matrix was, except it looks a lot sleeker, has power steering (which I thought I had this whole time until I drove a car that actually had power steering), and bluetooth so I can listen to my Young the Giant spotify playlist instead of my Young the Giant CD, among other upgrades. I feel like I’m driving my Matrix when I’m in it.
The power went out in my apartment building again last week! I was already running late, and I had to go back upstairs in the dark to tell the maintenance guy to manually open the garage gate so I could get to fucking work already. This has happened three times in less than two months! And these are only the incidents that I know of, because I spend less than 50% of my time in this apartment (unless a burglar is reading this, in which case I’m home all the time. Plus I always keep my sharpest pair of fabric scissors within reach. And I’m not afraid to cut you.)
Once I get my new car situation settled, I’m moving out of this overpriced shit hole and torching it on yelp!
I built this coffee table in an ongoing attempt to lower my Ikea to non-Ikea furniture ratio. Yes, this area rug is from Ikea, but The Great Pizza Box Fire of 2014 destroyed my non-Ikea rug, and I needed an affordable replacement! One step forward, two steps back…
NOTE TO SELF: Check the oven for empty pizza boxes before pre-heating it if you don’t want second degree burns. Or worse.
I was slicing up an avocado when I noticed smoke coming out of my oven. I opened it and saw that I left an empty pizza box in there like an asshole, and that shit was on fire! Instead of putting it out in the kitchen, I took the box out of the oven with my bare hands and ran across my apartment to the balcony. All the while, bits of flaming pizza box kept falling off along the way and lighting everything I hold dear to my heart on fire. My Anthropologie duvet. My area rug that I had just made an appointment to get cleaned. MY FUCKING HAND. I can live with a second degree burn, but they don’t sell that duvet at Anthropologie anymore, you guys!
The act of trying to forget someone is a futile one. In order to do so, you are forced to remember. It’s like dieting. Like trying your hardest not to think about food, while weighing every ounce and counting every calorie.
So the cafe inside my work has an instagram account, and all the employees who follow it have a chance to win a $25 gift card every week. I was pretty excited when I won last month. I was less excited about the photo they chose of me, but my instagram is devoid of selfies, so I forgive them.
Anyway, I was talking to my coworker who runs the instagram account, and he was saying how they make a big deal at the cafe when you get your gift card. And I was like, “Yeah, they even take your picture!” And he was like, “Wait, what… They don’t do that.” And then I realized that the guy who sells me my $9 pressed juice every morning took a picture of me on his cell phone for his own personal collection!