so the other night i watched sex and the city for like 6 hours. no one was home and I was indulging in some me-time… so I spent it doing something my roommates would never let me do. My roommates are boys. Some boys do in fact like sex and the city- and fancy the show as some kind of guilty pleasure but my roommates are not that type of guy. They are alpha males who think the show is stupid and they’re not even just saying that to prove something, they really mean it.

I haven’t watched the show in a while. I have been addicted to watching Entourage which is very much like sex and the city, but with guys, and in Los Angeles.  Blah. Anyways, everyone is supposed to watch the show and think of like, who they are- right? I used to think I was the Carrie, because, I write and well… she’s the star of the show and she has a very nice stomach and nice shoes. I don’t think my stomach is all that great, neither is my shoe collection… but I would like them to be (i am talking about both the stomach and the shoes.)

So for the past few days I have been walking around with a very loud inner monologue in my head narrating psycho analyzing everything I do. It’s rather annoying. I also feel incredibly underdressed.Like, I can’t just go get a bowl of cereal and take it for what it is, I have to think about how the cereal is symbolic of my life, and how every corn-flake is like a guy I have slept with.

Blah.

It’s stupid.

that’s it.

xoxox