The fact that last week is over is doing my body good. The weekend culminated in the second or third worst hangover I've ever had on sunday, which caused me to miss my own birthday celebration dinner btw, IN ADDITION to Misha losing his cell phone somewhere in the depths of Sheepshead Bay. The 2-3 hour ride back to my home from Brooklyn was not too fun, especially as each time I thought of Misha's lost phone and the sadness it was causing him, I started to get anxious and the anxiety caused my nausea/stormy tempest of a headache to grow.
This morning when I sprayed on some perfume, I smelled the alcohol in it and wanted to puke. I wonder how long this lovely sensation will last? Misha's birthday is this weekend, and we are singing karaoke for it, and I have to use SOMETHING to sweep my social anxiety aside in order to sing some Celine Dion to him.
Misha gave me a wonderful present on Friday. It is a neat portable record player that you can HANG ON YOUR WALL!!:
I am quite taken with it. YO, LET'S GIVE A SHOUTOUT TO THE JAPANESE AND THEIR NEAT ELECTRONIC STUFF!!!! HOLLA!!!
Which reminds me, lately Misha keeps threatening to "rock the bandaid" when walking around the city with me. That shit reminds me of the kids in my middle school who would do stupid shit for class pictures like putting towels on their heads or wearing weird hats or something, and then try and look all gangbanger tough. I think the deal with that and the Nelly band aid thing is that the stupider you make yourself look, if you are tough, you will just appear tougher. like that old Far Side cartoon, "nature's way of saying 'don't touch'". (I KNOW YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHICH CARTOON I AM REFERING TO, YOU NERD!!!!)
My sister got me this:
It is a stuffed Mijo, by that guy that makes Homiez. I just thought you should know that this exists.