Working It Out On The Inside: Concealer

Everyday we're told we live in the greatest country on earth and it's always stated as an un deniable fact: Leos are born between July 23 and August 22, fitted queen-size sheets measure 60x80 inches, and America is the greatest country on earth. Having grown up with this in our ears, it's startling to realize that other countries have nationalistic slogans too, none of which are 'We're number two!'

- Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris

Oh, what monotonous and peculiar days I spend alone in my apartment during the summer. I've been forced away from my friends and family back to the place I loathe so fiercely only to get three more hours of credit added onto my college transcript. It's a sacrifice I'm hesitant to make. Last year I hardly got a summer vacation because of the ridiculous courses I enrolled in. (I ended up getting a B in a health emergencies class that consisted of blowing air into plastic mannequins. The course blew harder than me, I suppose)

With no job and only one course to attend, the rest of the day I spend sitting around and wondering what I'm going to do with the rest of the day. This usually means that I spend twelve hours reading gossip blogs, reading about movies, or wrapped up in my sleeping bag like a burrito and watching Charm School on VH1. And then inevitably forgetting to read whatever chapter was assigned to us in class. However today, while loading the dishwasher, I broke my roomate's plate and ended up having to go to Wal-Mart to replace it: "A merry flag in the Arctic wilderness that is my calendar." I'm starting to think I subconciously smashed it on purpose in order to have a reason to escape my apartment. Don't tell me your summer sucks.

Being at home for three weeks was undoubtedly a satisfying break from the banal routine of college life in Denton. I spent my days in San Antonio hidden in my room from the incessent nagging of my mother and reading some good books. My nights consisted of trying to break the record for 'most times eating at Chili's', cursing and talking about nothing at Mary's house, and developing an unhealthy addiction to Guitar Hero. I recently spotted Guitar Hero hooked up to play at Wal-Mart and stood for a solid ten minutes gazing maniacally at the television, not caring that I was taking the turn of an impatient girl waiting behind me. I think I need an intervention. I may need to join Lindsay Lohan in rehab to break my addiction.

My camera might explode with the number of photos I have stored on it. Here they are:

Before I left for San Antonio I had to make an overnight stop in College Station for Kimberly's Texas A&M Graduation. Fun. This is my Papa at dinner. He's not embarassing at all.

Cheese Fries.

I hate when restaurants make you do something humiliating when it's your birthday. Just fucking sing and leave. Nobody else in the restaurant gives a shit that you turned 23.

Want to know what sucks? Waking up early only to spend 3 1/2 hours of your life squeezed in between people you don't know while a guy reads off impossible-to-pronounce names. Laura feels my pain.

My mom and her mom studying the program intensely.

There were a lot of grandparents.

I love my mom in this picture. We were having "A&M" cake.

We ate at El Jarro's on Bitters/281 for a Mother's Day brunch buffet. My Papa resembles an ape.

Yipee.

Mary redecorated her bedroom. One of her nine cats peed on that seat she's sitting on not long after this picture was taken. I know this because I sat in it.

Swimming with Mary, Brittany and Danté.

Met the Keipster for lunch to give her a birthday gift and show off my NYC pictures.

Note to self: never let Kimberly cut the hair on your neck. She will shave the back of your head instead. Thank Jesus for baseball caps.

Mary turned 21 and we threw her a surprise birthday party!

Anal rape. My cup says "Fucker" because we all wrote our names on them.

Brittany getting caught off-guard and unintentionally posing like Mary Kate Olsen.

Jello Shots

Dance party...well, Mary and I were the only dancers. But that's okay.

This is what you should look like at the end of your 21st birthday party. And yes, that is a snot string hanging from her nose.

No, Mary is not sunburnt. She passed out at her birthday party and people wrote on her face with red sharpie. An arrow pointing to her mouth read, "Insert Cock Here".