So, I worked like a motherfu- ...um ...well, a lot this weekend. 2pm to 10pm on Saturday and 7am to noon AND 6pm to 10pm on Sunday. Dang. Look at me go. To bed. 'Cause I am tired.
Anywho. So, I have a deep loathing for people who want to hug me, but they've got on too much perfume (or, for that matter, b.o.), or they just applied perfume, and they transfer at least 60% of their smell to me. DUDE. I don't have a great sense of smell, but I am very accustomed to my own smell (Scent of Yum, as I think of it) and I am really sensitive to how other people smell if they're close. The only smells I really like on myself are Chanel Mademoiselle (because I am a girl, people) and sandalwood ("clean hippie"). I don't like getting a drive-by-perfuming.
*this doesn't count if you're a cute boy with whom I'm getting it on. Then it's ok and largely unavoidable.
So, today I ate some truly garbage-y food. I'm too embarrassed to even mention what. But - lots of salt and crappy chocolate and the like. Hey - Judgey McGee! It was a very stressful day. Anyway. After a really garbage-food-eating-day, you know what I want for dinner? Yes! More trash (no, really). Burger King is right next door to where I work, so I made the ridiculous decision to go there. I can count on one hand the times I've been to Giant-Corporate-FastFood-Establishment since moving to the Boston area with all of its fine locally-owned eateries, and most of those times were at a rest-stop on the way to PA. I had completely forgotten the Misery of the Drive Thru. Sweet Cuban Missile Crisis that's a long wait! And the people at the first window (where I paid) weren't friendly. I tried to engage them in conversation, but I got NO lovin'. No response to my joke about how it would be gross if I accidentally got Apple Fries (OMFG what are those) instead of regular, original potato fries and put my standard tons-of-salt-and-ketchup on them. Seriously, these people were impervious to my charms. So, I just sort of stared at them while they discussed Grand Theft Auto. Really. When I finally got my food, I immediately tore open my Whopper Jr., and it was good. Yes it was - there's no finer burger for $1.00, in my opinion. I was then thinking what a great decision it was to stop at the BK while I bit open a ketchup packet and released an evil spray of ketchup onto my pants. Oh yes. They're not my favorite pants, but they are "go-to" pants, for days like today when I think "Oh, ugh, everything is awful what the F will I wear?". They are blue and white stripy pants and now I look like a patriotic hobo. Fast food karma: very cruel.
Last thought: on my way home in the car, I was thinking about how much cooler New Jersey is when I compare it to Pennsylvania. Yeah, I know that PA has Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, and they're both pretty cool. And that NJ has what? Camden? Princeton? Newark(ha!)? But even STILL, I like it better. Because New Jersey is scrappy, yo. Pennsylvania is a giant bully that gets you lost on its poorly labeled highways (everything is either "the bypass" or "the blue route") and steals your chocolate milk and then pukes bad grammar on you. New Jersey, on the other hand, is the short, gold-chain-wearing, hat-on-sideways, awkward braggart who asks you out and then screams that you're a lesbian when you say no, but you get such a laugh out of it and it's such a good story that you always look fondly on New Jersey because of it. That's just what I think, of course. I'm sure other people have completely different opinions of the states, but I have lived in both and I have read their diaries and New Jersey has a crush on me, so I'm partial.
Wow, re-reading the above makes me realize that I may be a little tired, so... nighty-night!