Hey big spender, spend a little Sears money on these happy little Sears shoes 2003-03-11 - 10:03 p.m.
Alright now. Today I bought my third pair of shoes in two weeks. TWO WEEKS. Normally, if I buy three pairs of shoes in TWO YEARS, I consider myself a big spender. But seriously. Staring at shoes all day is not beneficial to the balance on my happy little Sears card. You know I think I said that after I bought the first two pairs...
I started trying to read Austen today. Let me tell you this, already I think I prefer my "Emma" presented in a slightly more "Clueless" medium, if you will. I'm sorry, but bo-ring. Maybe my brain can take only so much, subtle, sophisticated humor before it starts begging for good, quality toilet jokes. I'll try to shuffle through for a while, but I think I prefer my 19th century British lit with a plain governess and a crazy wife locked in a tower and an Orson Welles-ish crazy guy involved with both of the two. Or some toilet jokes if possible. I am very much a big giant geek. Indeed.
It appears as if I'm off to campus tomorrow. Why? To get a copy of my transcript maybe. Oh, and to cause trouble, of course. Now really, what kind of person would that make me, if I am only excited to be "causing trouble" when no one is going to be around anyway? An antisocial dork, perhaps?
To all you college kids out there. DON'T EVER GRADUATE. Stay in school forever. Be that legendary undergrad who takes seven years to finish your degree. Hey my dad was. He said it was because he completely changed his major and because he was working full time. I beg to differ. He spent his time in college spray painting statues, tapping kegs, and taking pictures of innocent stray dogs, napping with beer cans under their paws. To each his own, you know? I spent four years in a practice room, emerging only for the occasional football game, attired in my sexxxy band uniform. College is good.
Actually, I also want to ungraduate so I can graduate this semester and go to commencement, if only to hear the Commencement Speaker above all Commencement Speakers. Yes.
Okay, that's enough talk about being damn old and stuff. On that note, it's probably my bedtime. Irony has kicked me in the ass and called me its bitch. Bonsoir, mes petits enfants.