Word

Holy wow.

I have blogged an obscene amount of times this week.

My Thursday routine:

Set the alarm for 6 a.m.

Get up at about 6:45 after pushing the snooze button about 20 times.

Get dressed. Yes, it does usually look like I got dressed in the dark.

Brush my teeth. Sometimes.

Go to Starbucks. Talk to the baristas that I know.

Speed to work.

Work. Or blog.

Today's choice is obviously blogging. CRAP. Need to call a writer. brb.

Okay, I'm back. He didn't respond. This isn't good.

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Tomorrow is Jen's birthday. I'm trying to find people to go to Sushi and then come back to my house for drinks. If you've never had one of my mixed drinks, let's just say your life is incomplete.

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This blog post is wickedly disjointed.

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I need to color my hair. Back to the red-brunette. Dang I love my hair color. Alas, I do not have the $50 to do that at present. Bleck. Good thing I'm tall. Most of my sentences are fragments. I apologize.

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I would like to take a trip.

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So I've noticed that most alternative Christian girl bands are abysmal. The station here in town mostly plays guys/ guy bands. The girls are just awful. Let's get some Paramore. Or the voice from the Yeah Yeah Yeah's. Please. And the chick lyrics are terrible. I'm stereotyping. But seriously? It's as though all they play is Britt Nicole. UGGGGGHHHHHHHH. Maybe it's the radio station. I'll stick to my other rock bands for now, thank you.

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I'm going to get Lasik in my right eye (once I find a grand). I can't see a freaking thing. Driving is not so fun.

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Something I find hilarious: Once it gets into the 40's here, the residents of COS basically throw a party and start wearing short sleeves. At least that's what I do...

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I want to go swing dancing. I want to go blues dancing. And I want to sing backup harmonies for a band.

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That's all.