Art thou yet prepared to hear the dreaded tale of the Dreaded Grandmother?
......Well, are you?
Ok.
We first join our herion, a dazzlingly beautiful girl who, of course, looks equally dazzling when she first wakes up in the morning (no, nothing like a rabid giant squid, thank you) as she totters into the livingroom, quite exhausted, and consequently attempts to fall into a coma on the sofa. She then awakes, opening her large, luminescent eyes thick with black lashes (of course not bloodshot in the least) and with a feral cry of a dying duck, realizes the Grandmother will arrive in no less than ten minutes!
She slides into the shower, throws on a baggy pair of jeans and an oversized shirt (while still looking ravishing. Yes. I'm not listening....) and thickly applies mascara before hearing the ominous croak of the door bell. Throwing wide her arms and stifling a rogue yawn, she stumbles into the shot gun seat of the Grandmother's Lexus at the tender hour of......what, wait, louder.....10:00 a.m.
And so the adventure begins.
She looks in Macy's, dead and empty as all normal people are snoring and lusciously dreaming of something wonderful, like finding an all-you-can-eat Italian retaurant and discovering the bill is already paid for by Orlando Bloom who has mysteriously been waiting at the bar, as she lurches around the racks of clothes, so cold. So cold. Finding nothing and dumbly discouraged, she tramps over to Rampage, hope sprouting in her muddily awake heart. The clothes, rediculously good looking on the rack, somehow swaddle her body in a modern art collage of disgust. Downhearted, she stares into the dust swirling in the pre-noon sunlight, an aching juxtoposition of her recent shopping luck.
Then, she sees a hope, a light! Abercrombie & Fitch! Of course! Whistling a jaunty tune, she skips into the store and immediately finds a lovely shirt, a skirt, and a matching purse in dusky pink. Not pink, of course, because that would be dreadful, but dusky pink. The dusk makes all the difference, you see.
And so it is off to lunch at Burger King where she consumes lovely fatty processed foods, and then home, lovely home, to wallow in fanfiction.
**
Here is a list. A list of things, you see. And not just things, but things that I must do.
Hem hem.
1. Update 'Complete Insanity'. That is a must. A must, must, must.
2. Update 'Legolas Jones' Diary'. Not three-must worthy, but one-must worthy, so I must.
3. Clean my room. Things are piled dangerously high on my bookshelves and chest. I am afraid they will topple over and smother me in my sleep.
4. Finish 'The Scarlet Letter'. But really, who wants to peruse The Scarlet Letter when they can re-read Harry Potter? Honestly.
5. Just try to chill instead of making to-do lists. Oh. Oops. Already messed that one up, didn't I?
......Well, are you?
Ok.
We first join our herion, a dazzlingly beautiful girl who, of course, looks equally dazzling when she first wakes up in the morning (no, nothing like a rabid giant squid, thank you) as she totters into the livingroom, quite exhausted, and consequently attempts to fall into a coma on the sofa. She then awakes, opening her large, luminescent eyes thick with black lashes (of course not bloodshot in the least) and with a feral cry of a dying duck, realizes the Grandmother will arrive in no less than ten minutes!
She slides into the shower, throws on a baggy pair of jeans and an oversized shirt (while still looking ravishing. Yes. I'm not listening....) and thickly applies mascara before hearing the ominous croak of the door bell. Throwing wide her arms and stifling a rogue yawn, she stumbles into the shot gun seat of the Grandmother's Lexus at the tender hour of......what, wait, louder.....10:00 a.m.
And so the adventure begins.
She looks in Macy's, dead and empty as all normal people are snoring and lusciously dreaming of something wonderful, like finding an all-you-can-eat Italian retaurant and discovering the bill is already paid for by Orlando Bloom who has mysteriously been waiting at the bar, as she lurches around the racks of clothes, so cold. So cold. Finding nothing and dumbly discouraged, she tramps over to Rampage, hope sprouting in her muddily awake heart. The clothes, rediculously good looking on the rack, somehow swaddle her body in a modern art collage of disgust. Downhearted, she stares into the dust swirling in the pre-noon sunlight, an aching juxtoposition of her recent shopping luck.
Then, she sees a hope, a light! Abercrombie & Fitch! Of course! Whistling a jaunty tune, she skips into the store and immediately finds a lovely shirt, a skirt, and a matching purse in dusky pink. Not pink, of course, because that would be dreadful, but dusky pink. The dusk makes all the difference, you see.
And so it is off to lunch at Burger King where she consumes lovely fatty processed foods, and then home, lovely home, to wallow in fanfiction.
**
Here is a list. A list of things, you see. And not just things, but things that I must do.
Hem hem.
1. Update 'Complete Insanity'. That is a must. A must, must, must.
2. Update 'Legolas Jones' Diary'. Not three-must worthy, but one-must worthy, so I must.
3. Clean my room. Things are piled dangerously high on my bookshelves and chest. I am afraid they will topple over and smother me in my sleep.
4. Finish 'The Scarlet Letter'. But really, who wants to peruse The Scarlet Letter when they can re-read Harry Potter? Honestly.
5. Just try to chill instead of making to-do lists. Oh. Oops. Already messed that one up, didn't I?
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