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Saturday Night's All Right For Fighting
Gotta love Saturday. Especially when you had off on
Being popular is a real bitch. (I don't really know that,
of course...I merely tell myself that to keep from feeling
like a complete loser.) I have an offer to go to a movie,
to go clubbing, to go to a party, to go to another party,
and to go to a friend's house.
Ok, how does one go about narrowing down the options here?
Lets see....Rolling over to Hollywood.com...No good movies
playing. Not totally interested. Can spend Sunday with
I hate clubs. I had the great misfortune of heading over
to the Eclipse in Harrisburg a few weeks back. Beautiful
club, mind you. Nice place. All the beautiful people were
heading in there. I so did not belong. The beefy security
dick made me take my hat off. My mop spilled everywhere,
and I looked like hell. Pissed off from that, I stepped to
the cover booth where they charged me $7 to get in. I
realize that, comparatively, that is not much...But dammit,
I was irritated! Then the place only had one bathroom!
What the hell is this??? (I never thought I'd hear myself
say this...But I miss the Vault.)
Parties. Bah. The parties I like best is where I can sit
with my Uber-mug and enjoy the frosted barley pop with a
minimum of distraction. I'm finding as I get older that I
am living my life in a constant state of annoyance. People
annoy me, so I am generally really fun at parties.
I wish I could get a hold of Gaby. Going to Boston would
have rocked this weekend. I always enjoy going to my
friend's house...but this particular friend I was with all
week. Not that this is an issue, mind you, I just figure
she'll get tired of me eventually.
Well, while writing this, I was just given the impetus to
drive up to Tower City tonight to deliver a paper. I guess
this means party while I'm there.
When the hell did I get so damned old?