very few things make me absolutely envious. i mean that. i'm dramatic at times, and say things in a fashion that has a hint of truth to them, but not 100 percent accurate. it's like, when i say i hate someone - i don't really hate them. it's just my tolerance for that person is at an extreme low and really shouldn't be tried.
what am i envious of? every single person that dates jake gyllenhaal. i love him. he's my faux boyfriend. and, i mean, all i want to do his hug him, in a giant bear hug. the same type of hug i once gave mickey mouse when i was six. true story. there are others, but i don't know if that's fit to print.
what else you ask? oh, i'm ENVIOUS (capitalization: necessary) of my mom and brother for taking a trip to paris for two weeks, while i wasted away in nyc. now, before you lambast me for the before sentence, hear (read) this: i've never left the country. the furthest i have ever been is here, in nyc. well, technically, rhode island, but whatever. i was going to leave the country right after graduation, to visit ecuador with my best friend and his sister (side note: my mom is from ecuador) and that didn't happen. why? because i was moving to the greatest city in the world. so, i was never able to visit the motherland of my mom. and now, working, i don't have the luxury i once had. you know, working sucks sometimes.
if you know me, you might know i have always wanted to go to paris. ALWAYS. i mean, everyone wants to go to paris. but if you were to meet my brother and me, you would notice two things: 1) we are very different people. i see fashion, he sees car engines. i see the arts, and he thinks vin diesel deserves an oscar (my apologies to the academy for typing that sentence.) 2) desire and appreciation.
anyway, my mom told me she didn't ask me because i just started a new job (lie: i started my job about 8 months before she left. my brother started his job in june. do the math. but, i guess that's one of the perks of working at my mom's company?) and thought i wouldn't get vacation. minor truth, but i could have taken off just not the whole time. so, she left me here, in the usa all alone. sad face.
my brother and i share a series of giant fuck-ups. mine are minor in terms of his, but doesn't that buy me some sort of "take me to paris" card? no? am i being selfish? ridiculous? if you think so, then i don't want to hear it and we aren't friends.
what started this rage was this: my brother put the pictures on facebook which through me into a minor funk and i apologize to the oreo cookie container i demolished in my blind moment of decay. i was jealous he and my mom were able to experience those things. the eiffel tower. notre dame cathedral (FYI! my brother pronounced it like the school. incorrect. INCORRECT! SEE! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!) also, it then put me into a funk of who is going to visit that beautiful city with me? i can't ask my mom or brother - they would piss me off in some respect because they did it first. i need either travel virgins or friends who i love/like/tolerate. or jake gyllenhaal.
but what softened the blow: my mom sent me a little care package filled with goodies that i absolutely adore and love. the contents included:
-two scarves. before my mom left, i would send her weekly emails on one particular scarf i wanted. it was this gorgeous checkered scarf that i could find anywhere, but for some reason, i wanted it from paris. i didn't get the scarf. but, she found two awesome scarves that are exactly my taste and style and i wore one today.
-cookies. i love cookies. i love sweet things. i love cookies.
-a key chain. this is perfect for my myriad of keys i always lose at work.
-a shot glass. duh. i'm a prepster. we can never have enough shot glasses. in fact, we're always too short in shot glasses. truth.
but seriously, where is jake gyllenhaal?
