how to be indie in ten easy steps

why do i ever bother to make plans? to make schedules for my day? to plan on actually leaving the house? to think that i actually might not sleep away the whole day? last night, i set my alarm for nine, with plans to get up early and go job hunting so i wouldn't have to go to work at barnes and nobles on tuesday. well, i did not wake up until one something, played around online, read the paper, and masturbated for way too fucking long. i took a shower and got dressed to go job hunting and next thing i know it is four-fucking-thirty. fucking shit!well, it is too late to go into dc and seriously expect to get a job. it will be well after five, by the time i start looking for jobs. god, why am i such an unrepentant slacker?

i lie on the couch, resign myself to the fact that i am destined to be a barista, hawking espresso drinks to people whose throats i dream of slashing. yeah yeah and the blood will pour. it will seep across the cafe floor. i will hop onto the counter. jump down on your now dead body, and spike your froo-froo cafe mocha with soymilk on your fucking lame ass. and surely, the brown drink and the blood will form an interesting color combination.

god damn motherfucking shit. that is how much i do not want to work at barnes and motherfucking nobles. i talked to niki today, and she refered to it as "the intellectual wal-mart." and man, i wish i would have thought of that. i called borders to see if maybe i could work there, but the hiring dude was not there. i'm supposed to be at work at ten tomorrow, and i am for real (this is no lie) going to wake up at 7, and call yes! organic market, hoping that they will hire me again, so that i can call into barnes and nobles and tell them to shove their cafe americano up their corporate americano ass.

i hung out with sarah tonight at ruby tuesday. i thought it would be really funny to dress up like a hipster. and so, i wore thick-framed glasses, old pumas, a tight, frattered rugby shirt, some fun pants, and a tight, orange winter hat. when i saw sarah, i told her that i was playing dress-up, and trying to look like "a little emo hipster." sarah is not bonnie, and did not understand what this meant or why this would be funny. i tried explaining it to her, and she nodded and said okay, but i know that she didn't know what the fuck i was talking about. i need bonnie here, so that we can talk about "being indie" and about "hipsters," and know that we know better. but, yet still be drawn to and maybe a little obsessed with the indie kids. and exclaim how cool they are, to our non-hipster selves.

we then went to tower records so that sarah could say hi to her friends, john and beth. while she was saying hi, i wandered around the store, listening to the listening booths, and snagged a jack johnson album, which i am listening to right now and motherfucking love! oh god, is it good stuff. we left the store, and in the car, sarah told me that john had asked her who her emo friend was? i told sarah to shut-up, and asked her if she was lying. she sincerely said no. and i made her repeat what he said. and he asked who her emo friend was!!! and motherfucking yeah!!! for some reason, this made me happier than anything in the world. i am someone's emo friend!!! ha, that fucking rocks!