Since I really don't have much to say these days, I've been taking lots of quizzes.
And, once again, I am surprised at how transparent a virgo I am. I took a quiz at TheSpark just now [who, by the way, has sucked ever since they ditched SparkMatch and decided to go with selling SparkNotes to take up their time instead. I live with the person I'm with now, all because of SparkMatch. Damn, dirty bastards.].. Anyway, so I just took this quiz right now, which had absolutely nothing to do with birthdays or signs or none of that. Only about how good of a best friend you are. And yet, this is what I get for my results:
"Are you a Virgo? I'm not surprised. You're a good friend at times, but other times you're harder to count on than an abacus coated with finger-repellent. And made of razor blades. You're the type of friend that when somebody asks you to hang out with them, you say you want to hang out but then you never actually specify a time, so that you don't actually have to hang out with that person. But you're generally trustworthy and sensitive to others' needs, like a warm elephant on a cold morning. You'll never be the Maid of Honor at a wedding, but you'll also never be the Maid of Dishonor. Don't be shy about using phlegm or bile to show your friends you care about them."
They're wrong about one thing, though. I was a maid of honor at a wedding. My cousin's wedding.
Yeah. Took me be surprise, too.
Which reminds me.. The pictures should've come out a looong time ago. I should email her.
But. Yeah. I'm bored. Second day in a row off from work. I have a really hard time getting my ass out of a chair when I don't have something like work to keep me occupied. I really need to clean the apartment, though. Ants crawling around everywhere is a sure sign that I've put it off for a bit too long. Heh. But I hate doing it because it seems like such a futile attempt. Anything I try to clean will just get out of order by the second occupant in this apartment..
Grr..
I actually made the bed this morning, for instance. Which is an incredibly stupid thing to do. Because.. as soon as we get in bed for the night, he's going to pull out the sheets that are neatly tucked under at the end of the bed [he's a tall person, he complains, he needs to have room for his feet.].. and.. he's just going to tear the whole bed up. He's been like that from day one.
Oh, but anyway.. This entry is about absolutely nothing. I'm that bored. So.. I better quit while I'm ahead.. or something..