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Yappy Birthday to ME! I'm a tiny bit tipsy. Wee!
Tomorrow Trenton is going to take me to get the raddest Elvis purse on earth. He is on a motorcycle with a leather cap pulled down kind of over his eyes. Elvis, not Trenton. Although... Mmm.
Tonite, my fella took me out after many twarted attempts at uninterrupted sex. We hit up Cheddar's, which is a totally delicious Friday's-esque restaurant that was awesomely inexpensive and super tasty. We were both starved, but suffering from shrunken stomach because we split three croissants and half an appetizer and then couldn't even make dents in our actual meals. We were comparing how full we were. "I'm so full that my eyes are bulging out." "I'm so full that I may not be able to walk out of here."
Sadly, we packed up our barely touched meals and headed downtown for some frozen coffee drinks. I got The Elvis, which is made with peanut butter and bananas. Fucking amazing. We sat on a couch in really swanky lighting under weird watermelon-themed art and read Dr. Suess books to one another. Aw. It took everything we had to pour those nummy cold concoctions into our already engorged bellies, but we did. And then we took a walk!
We walked around and through this awesome park with a fun waterfall (first I typed "waterfull" which is kind of appropriate because it was overflowing rather noticably). Downtown Springfield, MO is kind of strange. It looks like a movie set. All clean and square and symmetrical and abandoned. Like storefronts. Very neat. Safe. Empty. Feels kind of like the Twilight Zone without the doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo, doooooo. But in a really hip way. This won't make any sense to me in the morning. It is morning. Whatever.
To top the night off, we stopped in a bar on the way back to our parking spot. It was about two minutes after I turned 21. Darling and I ordered coconut rum and pineapples. Rums and pineapples. Rum-and-pineapples. Rumses and Pineappleses. Two fruity cocktails, okay? I mean, one for each. Not two different ones... rum... pineapples. I mean, rum + pineapple juice = what we had. Both of us. One. The bartenderette in this groovy laid back bar... The Bar Next Door (really!) ... she bought my drink when I told her I had just turned 21. Rock the fuck on.
We sipped our ... drinks... and listened to the live folky music that was sorta mellow and groovy until they played this weird... song? All I remember is "Heads like potatoes. Lips like a duck. Hands all puffed up. Big buns." It was about some underground scheme to create some affliction to rid the earth of rednecks and sissies. I remember hearing something about syphilis. And... white people at a broadway show getting pissed on. What the hell. Happy birthday.
I love this happiness.
Goodnight!
Tomorrow Trenton is going to take me to get the raddest Elvis purse on earth. He is on a motorcycle with a leather cap pulled down kind of over his eyes. Elvis, not Trenton. Although... Mmm.
Tonite, my fella took me out after many twarted attempts at uninterrupted sex. We hit up Cheddar's, which is a totally delicious Friday's-esque restaurant that was awesomely inexpensive and super tasty. We were both starved, but suffering from shrunken stomach because we split three croissants and half an appetizer and then couldn't even make dents in our actual meals. We were comparing how full we were. "I'm so full that my eyes are bulging out." "I'm so full that I may not be able to walk out of here."
Sadly, we packed up our barely touched meals and headed downtown for some frozen coffee drinks. I got The Elvis, which is made with peanut butter and bananas. Fucking amazing. We sat on a couch in really swanky lighting under weird watermelon-themed art and read Dr. Suess books to one another. Aw. It took everything we had to pour those nummy cold concoctions into our already engorged bellies, but we did. And then we took a walk!
We walked around and through this awesome park with a fun waterfall (first I typed "waterfull" which is kind of appropriate because it was overflowing rather noticably). Downtown Springfield, MO is kind of strange. It looks like a movie set. All clean and square and symmetrical and abandoned. Like storefronts. Very neat. Safe. Empty. Feels kind of like the Twilight Zone without the doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo, doooooo. But in a really hip way. This won't make any sense to me in the morning. It is morning. Whatever.
To top the night off, we stopped in a bar on the way back to our parking spot. It was about two minutes after I turned 21. Darling and I ordered coconut rum and pineapples. Rums and pineapples. Rum-and-pineapples. Rumses and Pineappleses. Two fruity cocktails, okay? I mean, one for each. Not two different ones... rum... pineapples. I mean, rum + pineapple juice = what we had. Both of us. One. The bartenderette in this groovy laid back bar... The Bar Next Door (really!) ... she bought my drink when I told her I had just turned 21. Rock the fuck on.
We sipped our ... drinks... and listened to the live folky music that was sorta mellow and groovy until they played this weird... song? All I remember is "Heads like potatoes. Lips like a duck. Hands all puffed up. Big buns." It was about some underground scheme to create some affliction to rid the earth of rednecks and sissies. I remember hearing something about syphilis. And... white people at a broadway show getting pissed on. What the hell. Happy birthday.
I love this happiness.
Goodnight!
