December 10, 2008

Marshmallows


I just had corn syrup and sugar for dinner and now I'm watching TLC in the living room without climate control, while researching whether or not I can microwave certain foods or not. I wound up on this website which makes me happy to be a girl: www.wannabebigforums.com

I went to CVS after work to buy light bulbs and hot chocolate. But I specifically needed Swiss Miss Marshmallow Lover's Hot Chocolate and a certain size light bulb. Of course they only had gross Nestle, but it was 2 for $3 and then of course I got the wrong size light bulbs. I can't have hot chocolate without marshmallows (duh), so I bought a bag of them. That's the thing about NYC. When you want something, you're so used to the instant gratification of going out and getting it, that you can't settle for something else or just forget about it. So I had hot chocolate with way too much water in it and wayyyyy too many mini marshmallows on top. It was good until it wasn't.

Also at CVS today (it was rather eventful), I encountered the two most annoying children ever. They were not cute at all. Normally I love kids. When I play with my little cousins, I actually want kids. Right now I'm watching John and Kate plus 8 and I adore those kids, except for Mady because she's abrasive. However, these CVS children were so grating on my nerves that I thought about joining a convent. They were probably 4 and 2, but they had stupid names (a girl named Eddie? Are you serious?) and they were crying and playing with the credit card scanner and climbing on the magazine racks. They were just abnormally repulsive, probably because their mother stepped off the pages of Good Housekeeping.

Tomorrow I'm attempting an art gallery bar tour. Well really it's just that galleries give you complimentary glasses of wine, but if you go to enough galleries.....
http://artcards.cc/

I'm getting to the point where I don't want to go to sleep, because my nightmares are so awful. I feel like a child. I'm eating marshmallows for dinner and having nightmares. Where's my mommy?

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