(Don't Go Back To) Rockville

On Friday morning I go to visit my personal stylist at the Hair Cuttery and I tell her, "Do as you please, just don't make my head look like an egg." And when we are finished, my head looks exactly like an egg.

And with my egg head, I go to visit Friend D, who is returning for the first time this summer. And I immediately ask her if she thinks my head looks like an egg. And she says, "Your head could never look like an egg." And that is why she is my friend.

During the day, mommy calls and asks me to have dinner with her because, "She never sees me anymore and she wants to see my egg head." I tell her fine, as if I am relenting. But really, I jump at any opportunity to go to the Cheesecake Factory.

During dinner, mommy suggests that I marry Friend D and asks if she has a good family and good teeth. When I refuse to answer, she tells me that I need a job that pays better and I agree whole-heartedly as she foots the 65 USD bill for two people. (Isn't that kind of expensive? I guess we are pigs.) When I get home, I weigh myself on the scale and am very pleased that I have remained under 1_0 pounds despite having just eaten solid food.

Today is Friend D's father's birthday party and I have been invited and I am not excited. I hate these kinds of gatherings where people expect you to make casual small talk about school and politics and Michael Phelps. Like I'm actually willing to share my opinion with strangers whom probably don't even blog. Also, mommy says I should bring a bottle of wine and ask for Friend D's hand in marriage. But I tell her that there is already going to be a lot of booze... thank god.

So now I have to drive down Randolph Road where I have gotten no less than 4 speeding tickets in the last year. And then I have to drive down Rockville Pike where I will probably get into an accident at the entrance of every fucking shopping center. And when I get to Friend D's house, the party begins.