Sick in the Summer
I have some type of weird flu virus. I was fine yesterday but I when I started my raw food diet I satred to feel like I was coming down with someting. I should have washed the celery more thorougly.
I have no strength to yell at any of you. Go ahead. Take advantage of me in my time of need. Just like my first boyfriend who kept making excuses that he could not see me because of the commute from his school from Wallingford.
This is funny. I am thinking of my first boyfriend when I was a freshman. He was a Junior and went to private school in Connecticut. We met at a sweet sixteen on the upper west side. He looked like an Abercrombie and Fitch model with his sandy hair and muscular body scuplted from hours in the gym and soccer practice. He was my first. My first kiss. Sickos.
After the party he would visit from school on the weekends and we would hit the clubs and bars. He would take me to these unknown punk and hip hop bands. He introduced me to Kid Rock before he hit it big.
We were together for a month then he stopped coming in and kept tellingme he was busy with finals. Then when I tried to call him, he was never around. Always in the library his roommate would say. I was actually tempted to visit him but I had no idea where Quantrel was.
My spring romance was officially over when at all places Woodbury Commons. VD was obsessed with this pair of Armani pants that was nowhere to found in New York and convinced me to come with her. It was while we were going through piles of underwear with the rest of the B&T that I saw him with another girl in the same store. She was looking through some shirts while he stood behind her with his arms around her waist and his mouth whispering something in his ear.
I dropped everything and ran out of the store to the nearest bathroom. VD called me ten times on my cell and found me in the bathroom where I bawled the whole story. It was at that time that VD's Dad was cheating on her mom so VD was in the mood to kill. For the rest of the day we tried to track them down. VD's plan was to fine their car and slash their tires but we never found them.
The best thing that came out of Woodbury was that we found the pair of pants she was looking for.
I have no strength to yell at any of you. Go ahead. Take advantage of me in my time of need. Just like my first boyfriend who kept making excuses that he could not see me because of the commute from his school from Wallingford.
This is funny. I am thinking of my first boyfriend when I was a freshman. He was a Junior and went to private school in Connecticut. We met at a sweet sixteen on the upper west side. He looked like an Abercrombie and Fitch model with his sandy hair and muscular body scuplted from hours in the gym and soccer practice. He was my first. My first kiss. Sickos.
After the party he would visit from school on the weekends and we would hit the clubs and bars. He would take me to these unknown punk and hip hop bands. He introduced me to Kid Rock before he hit it big.
We were together for a month then he stopped coming in and kept tellingme he was busy with finals. Then when I tried to call him, he was never around. Always in the library his roommate would say. I was actually tempted to visit him but I had no idea where Quantrel was.
My spring romance was officially over when at all places Woodbury Commons. VD was obsessed with this pair of Armani pants that was nowhere to found in New York and convinced me to come with her. It was while we were going through piles of underwear with the rest of the B&T that I saw him with another girl in the same store. She was looking through some shirts while he stood behind her with his arms around her waist and his mouth whispering something in his ear.
I dropped everything and ran out of the store to the nearest bathroom. VD called me ten times on my cell and found me in the bathroom where I bawled the whole story. It was at that time that VD's Dad was cheating on her mom so VD was in the mood to kill. For the rest of the day we tried to track them down. VD's plan was to fine their car and slash their tires but we never found them.
The best thing that came out of Woodbury was that we found the pair of pants she was looking for.
posted by Pradaprincess at 3:57 PM
6 Comments:
seriously, develop a coke habit. you will have way better stories. do it for your art, PP.
now i really do this you are fake b/c i don't think cell phones were small enough to carry around when you were a freahmen in HS...i call bullshit
i also call bullshit. what fucking bars allow 14 year olds?
Why were you shopping at the Woodbury Commons OUTLET if you really are as blinged out as you'd like us to believe?? Yes, Woodbury Commons is elite as far as OUTLETS go, but seriously now, why aren't you extending the plastic over at the flagships on the actual island????
Blech, you people are all so unnecessarily critical. I thought her entry was cute, and I can answer all of your questions for her with little or no thought, nor without even knowing her. And I will do just that since she sounds like she needs the rest.
Coke comment...dismissed...I'm bored. More originality please.
Next up: Please! Just bceause cell phones weren't small doesn't mean people still didn't carry them around. Try to remember your own cell phone from eight years ago...mine was big then too but it still came with me everywhere at that age.
Then: She said she met her boyfriend at a sweet sixteen party, meaning she was probably roughly around the same age. In regards to what bar in NY would let them in...check out this article: http://newyorkmetro.com/nymetro/nightlife/features/12115/index.html
Then move out of your small town.
Lastly: She explained in her post that the reason they were at Woodbury was that they were looking for a pair of pants they couldn't find anywhere else. Any moron with half a brain would know that the pants were most likely out of season if they had to shlep over to Woodbury. We've all done desperate things in the name of fashion...get over youself.
It's so pathetic that you people have nothing better to do but sit around trying to unsucessfully call bullshit on someone telling a story about a childhood trauma. Go out and live your own crazy lives and write about them on your own blogs. Lord knows I do.
she said she was a freshman. since when are freshman 16?
and so so sorry if we aren't all fashion maven's and don't have a fucking clue, nor do we even care, where woodbury's is.
blah blah blah blah blah... go back to your own blog. i'm sure it's full of wonderful and terrifically interesting things.
ha!
Post a Comment
<< Home