mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- condomcondomcondom! School, school, at school. I skipped my Political Science class because Ashley let me borrow her copy of Wicked and I was dumb and I brought it to school today, and when I compared going to class and listening to a looong lecture to sitting outside in the sun reading and smoking, reading and smoking won. Of course. I'm hiding in the computer lab hoping that my PSC instructor won't wander in here and demand to know where I was. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know who I am or that I'm in any of his classes, but still. I'm cooking for Jeromy tonight. I have never actually made him a meal before, so instead of taking him out, I'm going by the grocery store after school and getting all sorts of good stuff to make for dinner. Vegetarian lasagna, I think, with an alfredo sauce, and a nice salad, maybe some bruschetta. I actually can cook, guys (Remember my big baking phase, Crystal? When I baked cookies and breads and cakes almost every day?) I just don't like the cleaning up part, so I don't do it very often. Opening up a can of soup, that's cooking, to me. Anything involving the application of heat or the assembly of various food items counts as cooking. Uh huh. Jeromy, Crystal, Ashley, Athena, Adam, and I all went out bowling the other day. It was Saturday night, I believe, the international night for turning on stupid strobe lights and stupid fog machines and hiring DJs and charging more per game and calling it "Cosmic Bowling," or, like in Michigan, "Rock N Bowl." I think at least one venue in every single city in every single state in every single nation has a Rock N Bowl night. Anyhow, yes. We bowled. We beered. Athena did the spilts John Travolta style to some cheesy disco song the DJ played. I requested approximately 30,000 songs from his rather limited collection, mostly stuff like the Beatles and Buddy Holly and one song by the Bangles. It was nice, being around everybody. We all had a good time. Of course, after a few drinks I started shooting off at the mouth, drunken Angela style, telling Jeromy "love you, blah blah blah, hitched, blah, blah, love, blah." I think I may have proposed marriage. As always, after sobering up, I told him to disregard everything I had said, but I kind of hope he won't. I'm not in a rush to get married, but as much as I'd like to, I can't deny that I have a very, very strong urge to, umm, procreate. I don't know WHY. Up until about three years ago the idea of ever having children made me nauseous. Lately, though-- for about a year-- I've had this ridiculous, inexplicable desire to populate the world with thousands of mini-Angelas. Stupid primitive maternal instincts. Thank whoever for the lovely, terrific condom. Now I have to go before any of the student monitors see the word "condom." 2:53 p.m. - 2004-03-29 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||