Work at a restaurant: Check
Look cute working at said restaurant: In progress.
Meet hot gajillionaire boyfriend charmed by my humble beginnings: Working on it.
(Source: omegahedron)
Heyyy behb.
(Source: ohrobert)
“It’s time to say goodbye to turning tables.”
"When someone you invested love in takes advantage of that, you got 2 options: be sad about it or make him sorry he ever did. The second one tastes much sweeter."
And then there was the time when everyone thought that Katie Holmes was the rising star on Dawson’s Creek and Michelle Williams was merely the heavier less promising one and then Michelle Williams ultimately had Heath Ledger’s perfect baby and got an Oscar and Katie Holmes got married to a Scientology-loving weirdo and now she’s just sitting around like this.
(Source: penichillin)
#thatawkwardmoment when Dawson got hot.
(Source: betterinbw)
DAWSON’S CREEK: THE DRINKING GAME
My Summer is officially made. Just yesterday I found out that every episode— yes, EVERY EPISODE of Dawson’s Creek is on Netflix instantwatch. So basically between working out, working at the restaurant, and having any minor sort of social life, I’m just hanging out at the creek watching every episode ever. And then I had a stroke of genius. Nay— a stroke of EPIC genius. Kids, let us take this 90’s nugget of tv gold and turn it into a drinking game. Yes, let us reflect on this angsty teen soap that we barely understood when we watched it inappropriately as 7-year-olds solely because we thought it made high school look really cool and we all had crushes on Pacey even though the creek belonged to Dawson. Yes. So, here are the rules. Play the game IF YOU DARE!
Take a drink:
-Every time Joey half smiles
-Every time Pacey hits on someone
-Every time one of the teens uses a long word no high schooler would ever actually use
- Every time Dawson mentions Spielberg
- Whenever Jen’s grandma tells Jen not to swear
- Whenever Jen’s grandma goes to church
- Whenever Jen’s grandma says something pious
- Every time there is a gratuitous shot of the creek/rowboats/sunsets. You get the gist.
- Every time sex is mentioned. Take an extra drink if it’s mentioned uncomfortably.
- Every time someone kisses someone they shouldn’t. (Pacey and Tamara the slutty english teacher, anyone? Jack and Joey in the restaurant circa season 2 when we still think Jack is straight? Whenever anyone kisses Dawson because he’s so lame?)
These are just a few. Come up with your own! Have fun playing this game until you get sloshed like Abby in season 2. Then she dies. Too soon? Enjoy!
Day 2 of work at the restaurant
So these first few days learning the ropes I get to taste everything to have a better understanding of the menu. Basically I’m loving life right now. The staff is amazing and so understanding of my newbie idiocy, and they’re ballbusters just like me. I learned yesterday that apparently the restaurant industry is notorious for its booze and cursing, so it’s looking like I’m in the right place. Every 5 minutes someone says something noteworthy as everyone is badass and awesome, but this moment I had in the kitchen today was too great not to report.
Me: (tasting a sample of the homemade icebox pie…whipped cream, caramel sauce, chocolate sauce, sex.) Holy shit. This is amazing. AMAZING! **Stunned look on my face, one might even say an orgasm-like expression**
**The following was said by some of the amazing guys who bust ass in the kitchen and are way too cool for me. I have not learned all their names yet, but I am determined to get them to teach me some Spanish!**
Saoul: It’s good?
Me: It’s amazing. I’m gonna be… um.. gorda. (does an expanding gesture around body)
Other kitchen guys together: Si. Si! Gorda! (they know how to roll their R’s as they all speak Spanish for the most part. I cannot roll my R’s. At all.)
Me: NO! I work out! I will NOT get gorda.
Saoul: You work out?
Me: Yeah! I hit the gym!
Kitchen guys: You work out for… an extra hour. Then you will not be gorda.
Me: ….An extra hour, huh? Yeah I’m gonna get gorda.
**Laughter**
I eat Ramen Noodles.
**This is an assignment I wrote for my literary genres class back in March. It’s so strange but I love it. We were supposed to write something in the fashion of the German author Urs Alleman— essentially meaning steam-of-consciousness freakshow writing. So don’t worry, I haven’t totally lost my mind. I just did a little bit for a grade.**
I eat Ramen noodles. That’s what I do. Do it daily. Do it drunk. Do it sober. Do it without thinking.
Wavy yellow strands of noodle. Kind of look like hair. But no hair I’ve ever seen. But the hair I kind of always wanted. Long. Nood.Les. Kind of like Rapunzel’s hair.
Question. If Ramen were actually made of hair would I still eat it and love it the way I do? Would I? That’d be gross. Of course I wouldn’t.
But if it was hair if it tasted the same. Tasted good with hot sauce or soy sauce or pepper or salt or garlic or parsley flakes or marinara sauce then would I still eat it and love it the way I do? Would I? That’d be gross. Of course I wouldn’t. Ew. What’s wrong with you? Of course I wouldn’t.
Oodles of noodles in a bowl. Strands of awesome. If I could put the word awesome in a strand it would be a curly strand a noodly strand a curly yellow noodly strand and it would taste awesome and it would be a Ramen noodle strand.
Made dinner last night. Didn’t have anything else. Made some Ramen. Don’t know if I would have made anything else even if I did have anything else. Nothing else is as fun. Golden doughy threads weaving themselves around my fork, glistening in the fluorescent light of my kitchen. I hate that kitchen light. What is it about college apartments that they must all have fluorescent lighting? No one looks good in fluorescent lighting. Nothing looks good in fluorescent lighting. I have harsh wrinkles where I smile in fluorescent lighting. I have big purple painful looking bags under my eyes in fluorescent lighting. Can’t sleep. Try but can’t. Listen to music. Simon and Garfunkel. The Shins. Doze off but I wake up. I always wake up once, twice, thrice. Like to wake up a lot to see if this boy texted me—if the little red light on my phone is flashing red. People look good in red lighting. Sexy. Perhaps a little bit dangerous. I like a little bit of danger. But no one looks good in fluorescent lighting. But Ramen noodles look good look sexy in fluorescent lighting. I eat Ramen noodles. That’s what I do.
My roommate claims I eat too much Ramen. I said fuck you, you eat too many pickles. Pickles aren’t as many calories she said. You’re not as many calories I said. Fuck you she said. Of course I wouldn’t. Ew. What’s wrong with you? Of course I wouldn’t.
Wonder if I’ll ever love a man the way I love Ramen. I like when this boy texts me and makes my phone flash red when I can’t sleep in the night but honestly I like eating Ramen more. Ramen doesn’t care if I’m clever or not and isn’t going to leave. The price of Ramen isn’t an emotional one but just a question of a mere 25 cents. But if it were going to leave I would follow it and cling onto those strands of awesome so I could eat them and ingest the awesome thus becoming more awesome if that’s even possible. Wouldn’t follow the boy. That’d be gross. Of course I wouldn’t.
