Saturday, June 28, 2008

how to not move ...

i, the grand master procrastinator, have found a lot of things to do that do not involve carrying rubber maid's filled with addiction memoirs or jimmying a giant brass mirror into my trunk.



THINGS I'VE BEEN DOING INSTEAD OF MOVING MY STUFF
* consuming egg, cheese and ham biscuits from lakeview coffee emporium [x2].
* mile-long hikes to various parking ramps to retrieve my car after nights of unmoderation [x2].
* girlie coffee parties that fall just shy of hair-braiding and tampon brand comparisons with my friend purple.
* bellying up to the bar at rt quinlan's, times two.
* bellying up to the window table at carmody.
* bellying up to the bar at burrito union for a ginger margarita.
* bellying up to a booth at pizza luce.



* requesting the largest crunch cone in DQ's history, then systematically cramming into my gaping face hole.
* using mental telepathy on chuck's sister so that she will offer me rhubarb from chuck's dad's yard -- and succeeding!
* making rhubarb crisp at 2 a.m.
* meat shopping, meat grilling, meat eating.
* watching chuck get shorn.
* being whisked home by cab [x3 ... but once was because of rain].
* considering the keanu reeves catalogue of movies.

* beginning a walk to the grocery store for eggs, getting sidetracked by ski hut and w-trek and ending up stranded at the brewhouse during a storm. getting home and realizing we still didn't have eggs, but chuck did have a new head light.
* humoring chuck as he darts around the apartment wearing a bike helmet with a head light strapped to the front and a blinking red light in the back.
* watching "on the seventh day, god rocked" at teatro zuccone.
* running into ms. whiskey marie for the second time and suspecting she might just live here in duluth.



* consuming digiornos pizzas [x2] in their entirety.
* wondering whether chelsea handler's book is true-true, david sedaris-true, or james frey-true.
* opening my throat and applying gatorade.
* ignoring a tourettes patient who couldn't stop saying variations of the word "whore." ie: two-bit whore, whore house and just good old fashioned whore.
* taking photos of my friend qt's tattoo.

* feasting on a speedie weenie at the rhubarb festival.
* making new enemies, hiding from old enemies.
* spending money. lots and lots of money.

3 comments:

Miss Kate said...

I just emptied my storage unit yesterday. Three years in storage, and ten years past in taste. I was disgusted by the amount of sheer crap I kept - fake ficus trees, old bills, JANE magazines from 2004, disposable plastic food storage (that should have been disposed of). I guess that's what happens when you pack your house after boozing.

Anyway, in a way, I feel your pain.

Purple said...

I'm glad you chose to spend some of your not moving time with me. I don't remember that picture being taken; I think I'll use it as my facebook photo.

Whiskeymarie said...

1) Nice seeing you again.
2) Sorry you had to witness that.
3) You can see my boobies whenever you want.
4) I'm typing this from rehab- Waffle and I are sharing a room with Lindsay Lohan.