THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
Oh good lord.
So I went to go see The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants with Alix at 10 tonight.
It's some freaky kind of deja vu thing.
Especially because the whole time was just "OH MY GOD LOOK IT'S MILLIE. And ...Me. And, look, there's Liesa....Oh, wait...Yeah, yeah, there's Alix."
Kind of depressing that.
Except that we could never share a pair of pants because they would drag on Alix, become shorts on me, Millie would stretch out the ass with her ghetto booty, and they would fit Liesa like a skirt.
So Alix's mom said we should have a sweatshirt. And the arms would be too short on me. And Alix would strecth out the chest. And it woould fit Liesa like a plastic bag.
And it would look fabulous on Milena, because you could douse the woman in gasoline and have her wearing a lunch ladies uniform and a Hot Dog Stand hat, and she would still look fucking gorgeous.
I mean, hell, people ask to take her picture when we go out to eat.
WHO DOES THAT???
And then, you know, there's me.
And Alix. And Liesa.
Sad really.
Actually, it's even sadder that our lives ARE those series of books (minus the hot guys and plus one hearse). But still.
The likelihood of ANY of us going off to anywhere and finding hopeless romance, it's so remarkably slim to none, that it's even kind of laughable.
Except Milena.
But her mom would skewer her.
But, fuck man, it's weird seeing that. Seeing yourself.
Maybe we're just generic that way.
Except for the total lack of generic-ness.
You know...And the hearse.