The Best Part of My Day is When it Ends

Gossip Girl rerun. Sad to say, but Blake Lively, as Serena, is not that good of an actress. I really need the writers to get themselves together and start writing new episodes. I've discovered, in these past difficult weeks without new TV epis to anticipate, that my DVD collections is not as potent as I previously thought. Similar to opening a full-to-bursting closet and sighing, "I have nothing to wear," I'd peruse through my collection of titles and roll my eyes, wondering what possibly possessed me to buy "School of Rock."

If I have anymore cheesecake, I just might explode. Ugh, oh my God. Fudge Brownie, Ultimate Snickers, make it stop!

I wish I had a magic genie right about now. I'd wish for 4 available, attractive men, one for each of us. Then I'd wish for straight As. On top of that, I'd want to be a morning person so I could wake up at 7am and exercise. Last, I'd wish for a scholarship. Well, if I only got 3, I'd nix the exercise thing, then. Take what you can get, I say.

Rihanna is my new girl-crush.



Seriously, I effing love her. Her style is so cute, and she may be dating Chris Brown, which, hello? Swoon! They are too adorable for words.



So yeah, searching for those pics just brightened my day (night). I still haven't unpacked from the weekend, but that can wait until tomorrow, I suppose. We went to the Mall of Georgia on Saturday; they have a lotta stores, so it was pretty fun (read: expensive, yo). But it was in Buford, GA, y'all. Tackiness abound. But again, it was a nice lil' trip. (Cali Girl said that I wouldn't be able to wake up at 11am so we could leave at 12:30. I was dressed by 11:30 when her and Roommate watched "Sex and the City," and we didn't leave until 1:45. Lol). I bought a pair of bamboo earrings, and they bring me power. It's glorious.

Oh yeah, we went to Petsmart to take Charley to training on Sunday, and the guy who worked there was a Hottie Supreme. Seriously, I stopped in my tracks. He spoke to us and everything, and Roommate and I spent an inordinate amount of time looking at goldfish, hoping to catch another glimpse of him carrying those heavy-ass bags of dog food on his shoulders. He had these loooong dreadlocks, too. Yum-o. He was totally worth waking up at 10am on a weekend.

I finally broke down and bought my Shakespeare book from the bloody bookstore. 75 muthafuggin dollars. Whatever.

On Valentine's Day, I hung out with the Runner. I know, right? But on a scale of one to Romantic, it was pretty much in the negatives. I guess it could have been sweet when we were (basically) all hugged up on the bed--there was no place else to sit--and listening to music, but it just wasn't. I guess that's our problem. I don't like to think about it. I guess that's another one of our problems. Huh. Using "our" as if it indicates "we" or "us." Like there's an "us." Yeah, right.

We might go clubbing this weekend. That means two things: a) I will probably get to slow dance with a big, muscle-y boy 2) I can get my hair done afterwards, which is a blessing 'cause it's barely hanging on...

Oh, my Lord, I am about to cuddle up, finish watching "Bridget Jones' Diary," and fall asleep before 2am! On a weekday! Jesus has taken the wheel. I was gonna start a little homework, but eff that. This has been a monster of a Monday, and my bed is looking quite delicious and comfy.