Growing up is hard. Realizing that your growing OLDER is even harder. Yes, I am aware that I'm 21 and far away from the age of Geritol and Depends, but regardless, I'm almost 22. Which is ancient to the part of me that wanted to stay 18 forever. It all started the other night at Walmart. Shawn and I used to spend countless hours in the toy isle, causing trouble, running around, and playing until our little hearts were content. Now, we last about 20 minutes around the entire store before we want to go home and sleep. Employment seems to do that to a person.
Because my parents are visiting in about a half an hour, I was speed cleaning and I found an old sales receipt from Walmart, and the one from yesterday.
Here's how they stack up:
Old receipt:
3 Magazines
1 Hair Dye in an Unnatural color
1 Spiderman action figure
1 Bag Cooler Ranch Doritos
2 Gallons of Orange Juice (for drinking and tripping purposes)
1 Bottle advil
2 Packs of Gum
1 Package of Twizzlers
4 Packages of Zours
1 Box of Condoms
8 Cans of whipped cream (Hooray for whippits!)
2 Packs of Marlboro Reds
If I remember right, that night was a hell of a lot of fun. We were wandering around the isles when I stopped and looked down. After staring at me a moment, Shawn looked down, breathed in and said "Holy shit Clare, we are getting old".
Our cart contained:
2 Bottles of Old Spice body wash (buy one get one free)
1 Package Lightbulbs
1 Tube of Toothpaste
1 Bar of Lindt Excellence Dark Chocolate (which I would've hated as a kid)
1 Package of Charmin
1 Bottle Wiper Fluid
2 Bottles of Windex
3 Lean Cuisine Pizzas
2 Cases of Diet Coke
1 Can Bug Spray
3 Cookie Sheets

I don't know when this happened, but can I please go back to the time in my life where trips to walmart consisted of me buying worthless Toys, games and CDs? I want to be 18 forever, is that so much to ask?

I know I havent updated in awqhile. Im drunk as shit right now, and I decided now is a good time. So I'm keeping in all the typos and shit. Basically, I just want to say that Im going to miss everyone over the summer, Chris is hot, Im horny and loaded.
And give you all my formula for the antihangover:
Water. About 5-6 glasses. You get hungover due to deyhdration.
Vitamins. Take one multivitmain before bed, alcohol robs your body of important stuff.
Advil- for everything the former didnt deal with.

Heh. I promise. Works every time.
Ok. I go pass out and trry not to barf.

This is a quick update because I'm at work and I'm supposed to be making sure the kids or the staff aren't setting anything on fire.
I'm just chillin, at school (yes, they let me into an institution of learning), and waiting until I finally get off of work.
So check out LBC and drink a beer for me, guys.
See, now if you sent me money like you are supposed to, I wouldn't have to work a bazillion hours a week.

Sorry, I haven't had much time to update, and I probably won't for a few more days. I'm working 3 double shifts in a row, then 2 regular shifts, and then FINALLY I have a day off. So, in other words from Thursday to Saturday I work 48 hours, and Sunday and Monday I work 16. Does something seem wrong with that? I thought so too.
I might need one of these by the time this is all over.

An open letter to the lady in line in front of me at Walgreens,

I saw you pull up in your brand new Lexus (the temporary plates were a dead give away). I was the girl who pulled in beside you that you ignored. Fine. We wound up in line together. Don't think I didn't notice the Manolo Blahniks shoes, the Versace coat and the Loius Vuitton purse (from the pastel collection, even). I was the one with the same pair of Armani glasses on.
I was also the one who watched you put down 2 Red Bull energy drinks, and bitch out the cashier because they were supposedly 70 cents off. They weren't.
Yup. That's me. I was the cute little college chick in the middle of finals, who just ran out of caffeine and refined sugar. I was the one with the blue jelly bracelets up my arm, and the pissed off look on her face.
I was the one who watched you bitch at a cashier over $1.40 when your purse costs more than I make in a month. I was also the one who slammed that $1.40 down on the counter and told you to shut the fuck up.
Yup. That was me.
Here's my suggestion. You need a hobby. Apparently, you don't have enough things to do with your twelve billion dollars than torment the poor cashier at Walgreens. It was A DOLLAR FORTY. I make $6.11 an hour and even I realize, this is not a big deal.
I need you to find something more creative to do with your money.
If you can't, I need you to give it to me.
Because honestly, you kinda make me want to vomit.
Please keep your Chanel No.5 wearing, Louis Vuitton purse carrying, bleach blonde, nipped, tucked, and botox injected self the fuck out of my way.
Because like everyone else in that line today, I hate you.
Thanks for your cooperation,
The Tweeker Chick.

There was one important thing I forgot to add to my last post.
Up To Code, the opening band for LBC, kicked major fucking ass.
Sadly, I don't know a lot about them.
I do know they rocked the house, and they are all pretty good looking.
And any lead singer who knows the words to all the Lucky Boys songs like I do, and is ok with singing and dancing to them next to me, is ok in my book.