Early Friday Bed Shenanigans

Sissy Jennifer brought that guy back home last night. Kevin and I were worried sick about her; she hadn't returned by 1.30 A.M. from her office's Christmas party and she didn't have a mobile phone on her. Around 2 A.M., we heard them come in. They slammed doors, stomped around the apartment, and eventually settled into her bedroom. My bed is against the wall that separates our bedroom, so I could hear them talking and giggling for the next hour - comments of his interspered with "No! Really?" from her, followed by girly giggles.

Kevin made the brilliant observation that we'll need earplugs if Jennifer and Dan-the-jeans-borrower become an item. He is 22 years old and she is 31.

The alarm clock rang at 7.30 A.M. I turned on the stereo and put on The Trashcan Sinatra's Weightlifting, which must be one of the best albums to hear in the morning when you are still half-asleep.

Later, when I was having breakfast, Jennifer walked into our bedroom and asked Kevin if Dan could borrow a t-shirt. Kevin handed over a Belle-Rendezvous promo t-shirt he won from Gosh Comics - black with neon orange letterings. Bless his heart! No prizes for guessing Dan declined to borrow it. Sometimes, I wish I was as smart as Kevin.

Dan thanked me for lending him the pair of jeans. He left it by my bed, inside a plastic bag. Gonna have a good sniff at it when I get home tonight.


[Poll #400820]

You Don't Agree... But You Don't Refuse

( Prison Bitch )

Sunny at Night

I'm enjoying myself immensely this evening. I wish there were more LJ friends online so the levels of nonsensical talk could reach the stratosphere. But, as it goes, there are lulls of webby silence that give me time for icon creation. It's... so nice to have 15 icons!

I was listening to Erasure earlier. Everytime I hear their songs, I have this picture in my mind of the singer wearing tight faded-blue jeans and white sneakers. Must be some kind of leftover memory from the 80s, when I was a kid in love with their songs. And a white sneakers owner.

I had a nice cuppa after a curry dinner, shared a bar of chocolate with the monkeys and watched an episode of The Practice. Have I mentioned that we are addicted to this show? We have it on our video-on-demand service, so we can watch any episode from season 3 when we wish. Silly inmates, we decided to start from the first episode and... well, now we know more lingo lawyer talk then it's absolutely necessary to survive in the world. It comes with the Homechoice package, in case you were wondering. The show itself is terrible. Bad acting, ridiculous plot twists, and they win all their cases. But, as you know, what you are addicted to may sometimes not be too good for you.

I feel happy tonight. I don't know why. I feel satiated, good, looking forward to sleeping in and getting my hair cut tomorrow. If nothing appears to be between my ears... it's only a temporary absence. It will soon be back. I'm so GLAD I caught up with all my reactionary Livejournal friends. I'm so glad I'm not thinking tonight. It's PLEASANT to turn the engines off, go into automatic. The colours glow with a warmer intensity, the bed looks like a giant ship ready to be sailed away. Every dumb sentence does not get edited out when happiness is in the house. And there are no bad feelings towards the dumb sentences lingering in the past.