mayanrocks » Tribute bands and alleged sex scenes.
Tribute bands and alleged sex scenes.
Posted on October 11th, 2003 in Uncategorized

Navy Exchange. Jamba Juice. Homework. Hot pockets. Nap. These are the things my Friday consisted of. This cashier at Grossmont’s Jamba Juice whose name tag read “AsHLeY G” looked EXACTLY like Lizzie McGuire’s best friend with the bangs and everything. I would have taken a picture of her so I could show you guys, but I didn’t want her to think I was a LOSER for knowing what Lizzie McGuire’s best friend looks like. Haha. I noticed her when I first walked in, but Ed pointed it out because he’s apparently an avid fan of Hilary Duff. Ed went to TJ with his Audio Excellence boyfriends (I live less than half an hour away from TJ, and I’ve never been there, nor have I ever had the desire to go there… no matter how appealing they made it look on The O.C.). Sheen went to a BAR (I knew it! Haha). Jay and Beejaye watched a movie. My sister didn’t come down to SD this weekend. It was a lazy day. I just went online and talked to Meehchelle about the Tsunami Bomb show we’re going to tomorrow (f*ck yeah!). She wants to be up front at the show, but I’m a little weary about that. I got THRASHED at the Hoobastank concert when I was up front. I don’t think the Tsunami Bomb fans are quite as rowdy, but we’ll see. I don’t want to get dry humped again. Meehchelle cracks me up! We were talking about how Cursor (or Happy Hour as they once were called) is a “tribute” band, if you will. I heard that they have a show coming up at Soma. I remember watching them perform back in the day at SAMAHAN! Hahaha. All I remembered was that they covered Third Eye Blind songs. Doot-doot-doot. Doot-doo-doot-doo. We were talking about how WE could be in a “tribute” band if we wanted to. I’m so down to go to a karaoke bar and sing in front of strangers. I need some liquid courage, though! Haha. Buy me some Chambord and I’ll be good to go! I’m excited about CHEL’S birthday bash next weekend. I miss those girls. It’s always nice to be around the people you grew up with… Hmm what did I do yesterday? Sheen and I drove around the coast for a while just “following the moon.” That’s what we do when we don’t know where to go, but we don’t want to go home. We ate at CONCHING’S because we were both craving some good old Filipino food. We went back to her house and baked some chocolate chip cookies. I’ve never baked anything from scratch before and now I know why. It’s so much easier to buy the pre-packaged pre-cut frozen Pillsbury cookies than measure ingredients and BLEND things together haha. I got batter all over me and Sheen kept making fun of my ass. We were missing eggs so we had to go to AM/PM and buy some. Sheen made me drive back to her house in her car (to my horror!). Even though I know how to drive a stick-shift (thanks to Gerald), I’m DEATHLY afraid of driving a stick-shift. I can’t relax. I panic. I have an anxiety attack. I’m afraid I’ll crash their car. Or kill someone because I forgot how to stop the car. I barely pause at stop signs, because I’m scared the car will stall on me and the people behind me will honk at me and point at me and laugh at me and I’ll cry and I won’t be able to see the road because my glasses will be fogged up. We got back to her house in one piece, though. I may have burned her clutch a little. Ha. We watched the special edition Lion King movie that Jigga Jay gave her for her birthday and searched for the overrated “SEX” scene where adult Simba plops down on a cliff and the leaves and dust particles float into the air and supposedly spell out “SEX.” “Supposedly” is right. We paused that shit and could barely make out the ALLEGED word. Sheen thought her DVD was broken, because the games were f*cking up on her when she tried to play them the other day, but I played them and they worked. I think Sheen’s head is broken. LOL. That always seems to happen… Something keeps f*cking up on you, and when you tell other people or try to get it fixed, it works all of a sudden. Maybe inanimate objects have a mind of their own.

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