1/18 Recap

Quickly because I have to be at work at 7am tomorrow...

This weekend I bought 3 18-count cartons of eggs from Costco, because Brian and I seem to go through a dozen a week (Eggs: It's What Lazy People Eat). Now anyone who knows me knows that I can cook. But you know that joke about how someone who sucks at cooking can't even boil an egg? Well, I swear to God I can cook, but apparently I don't know how to boil an egg. I was trying to make hard-boiled eggs on Sunday and I asked Brian how long you need to boil an egg for and he didn't know. So I let the water boil, and then cooked the eggs for about 45 minutes (I accidentally forgot about them). They turned out okay. Today, I wanted to make egg salad so I asked Brian how long an egg should boil for knowing full well that he didn't have the answer, and he told me to look it up. So I did, and the recipe said, "Bring the water to boil, then cook for 1 minute." Whoa. I overcooked my eggs by 45 times. I am 45 times more retarded than the average person.

I went to my friend AD's birthday party tonight at a karaoke bar. I wanted to buy him a birthday drink and he wanted to do a shot of tequila together. Uh oh. I had planned to stick to juice tonight. No alcohol. And for him to suggest the evil which can notoriously send me careening down a dangerous, wanton path...

Well, luckily, 1 shot of Patron and I was fine. AD, however, was a different story, as he becomes friendly, adorable Huggy Bear when he's drunk. Men, women, children, inanimate objects...all will receive some love from Huggy.

I chose not to sing as I have respect for fellow human beings and I just don't wish that kind of hurt on anyone. Instead, Matt and I made up a game. It's called My Cover Band Would Be Called...

Basically, we would name a band, and throw out what the name of our cover band for each particular band would be.

For example:

U2= Homo Bono, for me(a U2 glam cover band full of glitter, hyperbolic makeup and pronounced codpieces); Discoteque, for Matt.

Wilson Phillips = The Fat One (Matt and I were unanimous)

Bon Jovi = Styl Horse (pronounced Steel Horse), for Matt; Jersey Tuck Job or Feathered Pubes for me (have any of you seen Triumph the Comic Insult Dog when he asks Richie Sambora if he feathered his pubes in the 80s?)

There was much discussion tonight about the fact that we are getting old and are around the age where many people get married. As most of our friends in Michigan are. I'm starting to get a little nervous because I honestly can't see myself even in a long term relationship, as I have yet to invalidate my history of being flighty and I just don't feel comfortable being alone with people, male or female. I'm seeing the psychohypnotist tomorrow so maybe she can help shed some light. She asked me what I wanted to see her for when I was making the appointment today. I told her, "I just want to feel more integrated. Like there isn't something I'm hiding, some part of me, even though I have no idea what it is or if it even exists." Hopefully this can help.