My Crazy Life

Day 17 Unemployed. 

How exactly does someone who is unemployed spend so much money?  I don't understand it.  And yet, even with all those dollars floating out of my bank account, I still do not own a couch.  It's unfathomable.  And yet, it's completely true.  I own an adorable armless chair from World Market and a hand-me-down, God-awful pink reclining chair that my father gave to me simply because my mother can't stand to look at it anymore.  But the pink chair (henceforth known as "Pepto") does have one redeeming quality: it swivels.

Swiveling is an underrated art.  While it's true I can no longer swivel as quickly or for as long as in my youth, I can still pass my unemployed loser days away dizzy and seeing the TV fly past me when I close my eyes.  As you can tell, I prefer to do the all-encompassing swivel, round and round as fast as I can, you can't catch me I'm the gingerbread man.  Oh wait, I don't think that's right.  No matter.  In Loser Town: population 1 (one) you can swivel and mix up phrases as much as you want. 

Some people prefer the back and forth swivel, and that's nice for all of about 2 minutes. And then it's time to throw back some Dramamine and speak in pirate tongue with your new found sea legs.  Aye, round and round is perfect for me, matey.

Beyond Pepto is a world of excitement I like to call Seattle Sounders 2011 season, woo hoo! 

The season starts tomorrow and I am excited....and not so much.  I am not excited because it looks as if this season's home opener is going to be as fan-freakin-weather-tastic as last years.  Luckily, I come prepared this season with a bitchin' poncho. Though I am afraid to take it out of the box, it's folded up so nicely.  After tomorrow night's thunderstorms it will forever be thought of as outside-the-box cause, well frankly, that's where it will be.  I am pretty convinced the same midgets that sit on the plastic cases housing new sheets park their tiny midget asses on the poncho boxes.  Once the poncho comes out, it stays out.  Like Ricky Martin.

There is also mad drama in the row behind me, but that's not my story to share.  I just think it's sad when soccer comes between two friends.  Freddie Ljungberg or Benny Feilhaber, yes.  By all means, let the soccer studs come between friends...preferably me and one of my friends (ahem), but soccer tickets, no. 

Drama, drama, drama