Skinny Drifters who are on Match.com and Myspace

Wowza. I'm all over the board today. I had this whole idea to write about the train-riding hippie homeless people who rode my bus home today, but I already told everyone that story. But seriously? They smelled SO BAD. Seriously. And not even, like, just smelly but like Aromatic Homicide. I've lived with three boys who had questionable hygiene habits at BEST, and I've never smelled anything like the assault on the bus. It HURT MY NOSE. And who knew there were still people who hopped on TRAINS to hitchhike places anyways? Not me, that's for sure. When the one drifter girl started talking about pitching a three-man tent on a "coal train" for 6 days, I was pretty sure I'd gone back in time to the 40's (or whenever people rode trains a lot).

But THEN I was hanging out with a friend who gave me free reign of her match.com account and I got to wink at and email all these dudes who I wanted her to go out with. We have different tastes, and she mistakenly thought that since I do a lot of writing in my spare time, that I'd be a good proxy in the email position. It. Was. Fun. But turns out, it's like TOOOOTALLY hard to email some stranger and get my sense of humor across, while also trying to be as coy and cute and lovely as my friend. I kept making jokes and jokes and jokes, and she's like "Uh, you have to ASK HIM questions about himself."

For this, I consulted Geo. He's probably pretty durn pleased with himself that I'm not as skilled at picking up men as I used to be. I don't know how to ask guys questions about themselves without sounding cliche. I am, however, very excellent at talking about myself and/or my friend. Color me conflicted. Hopefully she'll get some good responses though.

Then on top of all THAT, I fell in lurve with Skinny Girl margaritas. Some chick on some reality show about desperate housewives of Orange County or something made Skinny Girl. Prinna turned me on to it, but I went out with my girl friend and stocked UP on it tonight. It's really good. So, we bought 3 bottles of it. We sped through the first bottle without even blinking. We convinced ourselves we were basically losing weight by drinking it because it's all low-cal and delicious, and we did a lot laughing while drinking it, so we pretty much burned all the calories anyways.

I wasn't expecting much tonight, to be honest. I decided to skip kickboxing because, well, it was nice out and I wanted to grill and Scary Tony didn't fit into my lovely sunny mood. I thought I'd be walking around the lakes or trying to ride my bike or something, but instead, all this wonderfulness happened. But after using all my best material on the guys I emailed on behalf of my friend, I'm literally (LITERALLY!) drained.

Oh! AND! We decided to logon to Myspace for sh*ts n' giggles. I couldn't remember my email or password, but turns out it's very easy to hack in to your own account. I hadn't been on Myspace for, um, 6 years? It was a ghost town, guys. There's nothing to look at, no one to stalk, nothing exciting being shared. Poor Myspace. I feel bad. No one cares about it anymore and now it's all lonely and sad and why would ANYone have a Myspace account anymore? It's the classic case of Do It First, Do It Worse (I will be copyrighting that. I just made that up). There's no way to check-in on Myspace, no tagging...or wait, maybe there is. I don't know. We spent about 2 minutes on it before getting so bored out of our minds that we logged out. Sad, Myspace. I liked you for about a year, and then you just couldn't cut the mustard anymore. It's probably like how Bing feels. No one likes Bing. It's way dumber than Google, no matter how hard LeBron James pushes it down my throat.

Wow, yeah, this is all disjointed and crazy and weird tonight. From drifting hippies to match.com, to Myspace, I really covered a lot of territory in the 4 hours since I got home from work. I'm all over the map. But, I did come away knowing a couple things: Showers are good, Skinny Girl margaritas are great, and Myspace is just NOT good. Lessons learned, I guess...