bad luck

so. apparently i can't even go to the post office anymore without getting hit on like a million times. and the post office is less than 10 minutes away from my house. i'm not bragging, by the way. it was anything but flattering.

every single time a car pulled up with 2 guys in the front seat and i accidentally made eye contact with one of them, i sighed inwardly. (and outwardly.) i knew i would inevitably get honked at, and if i was lucky, that would be the end of it.

i don't even know if i can honestly say they were hitting on me. they were probably just dicking around. not only were they laughing, but i wasn't even showing any skin, with the exception of my arms.

i bet these are the same guys who date girls left and right so it looks like they've got it going on, when it reality they can't get anyone to put out. if you're one of those guys, this is how not to get laid: honk at modestly dressed girls you've never met like they're fucking prostitutes, and make sure you're wearing a wifebeater. i promise you'll never see a pussy up close again.

speaking of, pat and i were on the phone a week or two ago and in the middle of our conversation his brother matt picked up.

matt, "hey pat, i'm leaving now, but i have like 5 girls calling tonight, so if one of them calls tell her i'll call her back, okay?"

...

me, "have i ever introduced you to my friend, awkward silence?"

no, i made that up.

pat, "uh, okay."

after he hung up we waited a few seconds and then we laughed at him. pat told his mom too and she got a big charge out of it.

later our phone call was interrupted again, this time by the operator. she informed pat that julie (one of matt's psycho ex-girlfriends, so what else is new) was on the line. it was an emergency, she said. will you hang up and open up the line so she can get through?

"no."

i said, "you should have said yes. you should have pretended to be matt and said, 'julie, listen. you're only 1 of 5 girls.'"

matt wears wifebeaters.

today has been... interesting. this morning i somehow managed to walk into a wall. in my defense, it was dark. so dark i couldn't see my hand in front of my face. or the wall.

my parents woke up immediately and my mom wanted to know if i was okay and what happened and what part of my face did i hit and and and. and let me tell you, when you walk into a wall the last thing you want to do is answer questions.

it hurt. i decided to skip 1st period even though i'd end up missing the 3rd quarter bio final. i sat at the kitchen table with an ice pack against my face and felt like a gigantic tool. it didn't help matters when i couldn't find a replacement ice pack and had to use frozen veggies instead. jesus.

then my mom put a bowl of cereal in the microwave for 60 seconds and the cereal burst into flames. the entire house absolutely reeked, even with the oven fan on its highest setting and the windows opened up wide. i didn't even know it was possible to burn cereal, so after that i felt a lot better about walking straight into a wall.

i decided not to write about the strip club after all. jackie's already written about it in her lj anyway. you can read it here if you're interested.

next time i'll write a japan entry. i promise.