Posts tagged my life

I can’t really describe my last 36 hours because of reasons but I will just say that we had the tiniest, most adorably sad hotel room ever, drank way too much wine, and had a ton of pseudo-religious experiences due to Nick Cave because GOOD LORD THAT MAN (I can’t even START with him, seriously.  Unf).

Notable quotables:

• “I THOUGHT THE ROOM WOULD BE NORMAL-SIZED!?”
• “Don’t think about it in terms of ‘bottles’.”
• “It’ll be just like that part in ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’, except it’s not snowing and I’m going to wear pants because duh.”
• “Who had THAT idea?  Because I can assure you, I was merely a willing accomplice to that plan.”
• “CAN WE JUST TALK about the piano bench leg kick thing?  Because when he did it the first time I was like, ‘Praise Jesus!  HE HAS RISEN!’”

It goes a little something like this:

Work>Walking Dead Finale feat. probable ‘Good Night Sweet Prince/O Governor My Governor’ interlude>Game of Thrones premiere>Sleep>Chicago for NICK CAVE tomorrow.

Oh right, and Happy Easter if you’re into that.

I have a sore throat so I’m dealing with it like every other normal 23-year-old in that I passed out on my Grandparent’s couch for two hours and then ate soup for ALL THE MEALS and then tried to figure out Martin Freeman’s role in that god-awful “What’s Your Number” movie.

I am feeling surly, surly, SURLY for a number of reasons and I really hate it but hey, what’cha gonna do, kiddo?

I’m seeing Craig Ferguson with some good friends tomorrow, though, and then we have Oscar shenanigans on Sunday, so I’m hoping that breaks me out of whatever the hell this funk is.  Because right now I just feel a little disillusioned.

Had to balance the soul-crushing intensity of “House of Cards” by watching “Pretty In Pink” afterward.

We have two episodes to go and I literally hate everyone on this show, except I don’t because they’re all pretty damn compelling. I think I summed it up best when I said:  ”I absolutely hate him. But I love him.”  Frank Underwood, man. Spacey is so great and gorgeous I can’t stand it.

Also, tonight was not the first time someone has compared me to a Molly Ringwald character.  Fated to Ringwald forever.

CONFESSION:  Sometimes when I get bored I make home recordings of me singing songs and playing guitar and it’s totally stupid because I’m so self-conscious of my voice that I’ll probably never post them.

Also, wtf, how do I sound British when I sing?  I’m from Michigan.  That’s stupid.  Or not stupid, but y’know… just kind of weird.

 Things I want to say to customers at work:

• NO THAT IS NOT A KINDLE/NO I CANNOT HELP YOU WITH YOUR KINDLE/NO WE DO NOT CARRY KINDLES.
• A RED BOOK!?  WHY DON’T YOU HAVE TITLE/AUTHOR/ANYTHING REMOTELY DESCRIPTIVE ABOUT THE RED BOOK!?
• NO THAT ISN’T IN PAPERBACK, IT CAME OUT LAST WEEK.
• NO I CAN’T PRICE MATCH ONLINE PRICES.
• NO, “THE GREAT GATSBY” ISN’T NEW JUST BECAUSE IT’S A MOVIE.
• PUT AWAY YOUR HOME DECORATING MAGAZINES AND YOUR STUPID QUILTING ONES, TOO, OLD FOLKS.

Love always,

Kali
Disgruntled bookseller