My name is Shmeeyon.
I like to dance.
Happy to be single,
To hell with romance.
Will the person who put themselves in my contact list as Gunit whose number ends with 5830 please identify yourself? I am in the midst of purging the phonebook and I'm scared to just call the number to find out.
And sorry whoever C is, you've been deleted as I'm pretty sure I don't really talk to anyone from area code 552.
But rest assured, Phat Ho, you still have a place in the phonebook (and my heart).
And speaking of contacts
for those that use contacts and are like me in that you aren't particularly bothered about the recent MoistureLoc-leads-to-blindness scandal, here's a coupon for a free bottle of their non-blinding solution.
PS - Hi, Sar.
By all means, join the bandwagon and jump ship.
Swiped from mishkabobs:
Name 10 songs and tell what they remind you of
I subscribe to this blog called Ohmythat'sAwesome and one of the fun posts they make are the ones that feature anonymous catalog hotties, for example BR polo shirt guy and most recently Adidas board shorts dude. Yes those are my comments, shut up.
And I get this idea in my head to search out more anonymous catalog hotties because... well I don't know why except I tend to follow through on goofy ideas.
So I go to Macy's and egads, it is obvious this will not be easy.
A little more hunting provides slightly more favorable results.
And then I stumble across spit-coffee-on-keyboard laughter.
Are you freaking kidding me with the sweatband?? Sue your modeling agent, pronto.
But none of them prepared me for this: Holy WTF.
This is just so wrong on so many different levels. Firstly, the jacket with no shirt? And my head implodes trying to contemplate the meaning of that tie. And hey, HEY, HEY, watch your hands there buddy.
Just what are they trying to sell at Macy's these days?
Birthday week shenanigans are over!
I finally caught up on my sleep after going to bed at 3am, 4 out of 7 days last week. You'd think I had the stamina of a 25 year old! Since the last posting, there was Boyz II Men: The Return.
Aww yeah, we are two for two.
And this time, with 400% more squeeling!
Friday night was a bachelorette outing, complete with urinals and blow jobs. I know what you're thinking, "Shmee you keep things so classy, how do you do it?" I tell you, it is quite difficult sometimes. Hopefully the girls I was with share pics with me soon so I can show you just how classy it gets.
Have you seen Mission Impossible III yet? You should, it is actually quite watchable. You know the summer blockbusters are just around the corner when the best you can say about a current movie is "quite watchable".
So what's next?
I've got a few trips to my alma mater to
sucker in recruit recent grads.
The search for a new place 'cause I'm moving in July. Again. Againagainagainagainagain! I know moving once a year for 9 years doesn't quite qualify to call myself a nomad but it is definately enough to say that I'm giving a nod to my Mongolian heritage.
New toy hopefully by the end of the month!
All hail misSario for coordinating a most excellent outing for celebrating my triumphant success at staying alive, and somewhat sane, for 27 years.
I was kept completely in the dark about the actaul event, which was a concerted effort that even included blindfolding me with what I think were sweatpants (eww shmeepants) until we arrived at the destination.
- bowling, ("but everyone knows I hate bowling" "... you do? shit!")
- Les Girls (I'll let you guess what Les Girls promotes.)
Umm yeah that's all my guesses. I was, and still am, shocked that such effort was put into the day so I didn't want to try and guess too much and just enjoy the moment.
Oh right, you're probably wondering what we ended up doing:
Check out the sweet invite (that even I didn't get)
I'd never played before and dood, it was great running around in the dark with 30 people and you're more scared than you should be with frickin laser beams going off left and right and oddly enough is that Ace of Base playing over the speakers because that is freaking awesome!
You'll note that I'm notably absent in that picture. I think I was busy with trying to put out that damn last candle:
Fucking trick candles.
Haha just kidding, that was awesome too. I don't think I had to deal with trick candles since I was... well never, so that's something to cross of my list of Things To Do Before Twenty Eight.
(Twenty eight! AIEEEEE!)
(Why am I all red and pie-faced? This is so unfair. In the last couple of months I've been able to fit in the holy grails of wardrobe items: The Skinny Jeans and yet I am as pumpkin faced as ever. Durh.)
Other things of note for future reminiscing:
I'll create an album eventually, after I get more pictures.
Yes, I know it says Happy New Year and why the fuck not? The album includes pics taken on the REAL birthday as well (you know, when I drunk posted at 4am) More to be added as they come in.
I have to get this off my chest right now because I refuse to let my birthday be tainted. Tomorrow, nay, the rest of my life will be spectacular and fabulous and wonderful and fulfilling and complete.
But for the next 1.5 hours I dedicate my efforts to seething anger. Furious, unchecked, anger.
I am sorry I ever trusted the bastard, lies all lies.
I am sorry I ever thought he was capable of achieving... anything. "Lah-oser" with the L to the forehead and everything.
I am sorry I ever encouraged him, you can't encourage a slug, what a waste of breath.
I am sorry I ever fed him, totally unappreciative palate and cheap at that.
I am sorry I ever wasted my friends' time by talking him up around them, I feel really dumb and I'll make you guys good food to make up for it.
I am sorry I ever kept him warm with knitterly items made of yarn FAR too good for his sorry head and neck and I think I'll ask for it back and donate it to a crack addict who actually deserves it.
I am sorry I ever gave him the benefit of the doubt.
I am sorry he ever made me doubt myself.
I am sorry I ever thought he was right about anything.
I am sorry I ever thought he was good enough for me.
I am sorry I ever thought he was manly.
I am sorry I ever thought giving the best of myself to someone would be enough.
I am sorry I ever thought he was true about God because how can anyone pray so much and still be such a horrible person? Yeah, you better pray for your flaws and you know they run deep. And because I know what it actually means to be true, I will pray for your conscience and hope that you will one day be able to look yourself in the eye and not flinch because I don't know how you do it now, you big fat hypocrite. I'm surprised the mirror doesn't crack from your deceit.
I am sorry I ever shed tears.
I am sorry I ever let him see my smile, heard my laugh, or hold my hand.
And (this is extreme, but let's face it, this is extreme circumstances) I am sorry I ever met him.
I never say that.
Because every life (every life) (until now) that has touched mine has given me something to learn, something to cherish and keep close to me. Until now. What have I to show except a bitter heart and distrust in myself?
So I'm sorry I ever met him.
I am NOT sorry I wrote this.