maude

vacation to New York was cancelled. no gypsy goodness for me this time around, but the Michaels and Sage both fucking rocked my world. and apparently Eugene Hutz DJs at some gypsy club in NYC, so i know where i'm going next time. also my best friend who i'd be staying with there has an asshole roommate who assumed i was a total druggie because i work in an indie record store. when i do visit, i am totally dropping a baggie of baby powder on the floor and then locking myself in the bathroom for half an hour (i'll probably just play Pokemon). and i'll bring brownies. my friend says it sounds like fun since he's been such a dick to her (stupid sheltered New York law student).

i like vodka, and cupcakes, and my very own apartment. NO ONE IS BOTHERING ME. I DO NOT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT BEING TOTALLY SILENT. IF I WANTED TO HEAR SOME MUSIC RIGHT NOW I COULD PLAY IT. yaaaayyy! it took a little bit to get internet in here and i still don't have any furniture for the living/dining room (which is really just the carpeted half of the kitchen) but i have my eye on a futon thingy at Target that's wicked comfy and then people could stay here if they wanted and not have to share a bed with me (which i wouldn't really care about anyway since i have two twin beds strapped together with a special overpriced kit to make a king size, but yay privacy). also i should probably get a table and some chairs at some point but they are an expensive endeavor. i also want a record player and have found one at the local Big Lots but have nothing so put it on and only one record so first things first.

awww, i got frosting on my shirt. lame. oh well, it needs to be washed anyway.