Self-indulgent musings of a social retard.

Damn. Drama. So, I spend a few days away from Diaryland, and all hell breaks loose? So, apparently, there is some big to-do going on in my notes page between lifeonhold and seattledavid. Really, I don't know what the deal is with this guy. Issues. We all have them. We don't all go posting incessantly rambling notes about them to people we've never had any contact with before.

Yes, I'll delete the notes when I get around to it.

Weirdness. It reminds me of a friend of my once telling me "I'm so sick of hearing about other people's problems!" I thought this was hilarious because she's a therapist!

Free at last. The Girl Scout cookie sale is ovah! Halleluja. Bink worked her little butt off. She sold almost 1200 boxes of cookies. That's a lot of freaking cookies. She was so earnest. I swear I didn't push her. In fact, I kept telling her that she could stop any time (though this was, admittedly, probably more for my sake.) She's very goal oriented. She wanted to make it to the "Cookie Hall of Fame," and reap all the prizes that that entailed - namely a limo ride to lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe with all other Hall of Famers. I have lived in San Francisco for almost 10 years, and have never been to the Hard Rock Cafe. I've kinda prided myself on it! Oh well.

Saturday, we were at her final booth sale with another Brownie and her mom. We were in front of the Metreon - a gross, monstrous movie and "entertainment" complex. My ex-boyfriend walked by with his latest. It was funny to see him with this woman, who was obviously way older than him - which is his thing, btw. She was wearing these leather pants, which just don't work on women of "a certain age." (Bitter much?) So I did learn something - not to wear leather pants when I'm older. Actually, I learned something else, too. If I'm going to be out in public for extended amounts of time, I should dress like I might run into an ex-boyfriend - and maybe comb my hair, too.

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