Yippie skippy! I was very upset last Monday when I took my crap financial accounting test. I made a 79% on it. And I felt awful because I totally thought I did really well on it. Turns out, I did! She messed up 5 tests and mixed in another test format. So I got a 91%. Which means I'll probably end up with an A.
There's this girl in my class named Kim who, quite frankly, has always seemed a little snobby to me. The fact that she's ALWAYS perfectly groomed, slim, and is married to a sugar daddy does not make me jealous (ok, a little on the size -5 part, but definitely not on the sugar daddy bit). She owns at least 4 Louis Vitton handbags. One is from this spring's collection and I'm pretty sure it's not a fake because Tulsa's market for fakes is a lot closer to nil then Houstons (I miss Harwin Street). She also has a massively fugly pair of Choos. Ordinarily, I wouldn't even notice brands, but God love the forced subscription to Allure and the guily pleasure of US Weekly that I spend company time reading. I read a magazine, came across the massively fugly Choos and the image was forever seared in my brain. And then I saw them in class. Now, to you Houstonians, Jerseys, and Californians, seeing L.V. (and OWNING LV, Cici) is no big deal. You're used to seeing richer or rich-looking-but-in-debt-to-their-eyeballs people with nicer things around, at least more than I am here in Tulsa. But...I'm nearly positive you can't find Choos in Tulsa.
Anywho, Kim and I were in line at the bathroom and I told her I liked her slacks. They had a neat connecting piece of material that went from butt cheeck to cheek only really high and had buttons. There's probably a more technical name for this, but I'm going to call it butt connector. Her reply wasn't the generally acceptable "Thank you." Her reply was, "They cost $160 but I had to take them in because they were SO huge because they're a size FOUR!" Bitch. I'll bet SHE isn't making an A in crap financial acconting.
On to happier, non girlfight-worthy things. I started watching a movie last night and my ever faithful dog sat on my lap. I leaned over get some kisses from her and she started licking my face like crazy. She never really does this. But it tickled and so I started laughing hysterically. So, this goes on for LITERALLY 20 minutes and at the end of that 20 minutes I get a knock on my door from the neighbor across from me asking if I was ok. Becuase I was laughing like a psychopath for 20 minutes and I just gained like 2 pounds of ab muslce? Yeah, I'm fine. :) Nevermind the fact that at one point there was a couple in my apartment yelling & throwing things at each other to the point where I had the phone picked up ready call the cops. No one ever checked on me then, but they have to disrupt a pleasurable lauging fit.