Is that what today is?

Maybe it’s because I’m coming down from my dinner wine (I had wine for dinner, not wine with dinner) and taking a stroll down Memory Lane, but listening to pop-rock from the early 2000s is making me strangely emotional right now. For the last couple of hours I’ve been listening to The Academy Is, early P!ATD, Sum 41, New Found Glory, early Jimmy Eat World, early Blink 182, early French Kicks, Green Day and others that got me through my teen years. I remember every word. Listening to these bands takes me back to simpler times and makes me mourn all the time that’s passed. I didn’t know that life was going to end up having been simpler then, if that makes sense (hindsight, yay!). I mean, I did, but only in theory. Even the sound of the “angsty” music back then was simpler and lighter in a way… Two weeks ago to the day, I turned 23. My youth is over.

I can’t comment on the taste, but I can enlighten all you curious readers as to what it smells like…

So, this morning- like the genius that I am- I decided to reach into the toaster oven to retrieve my toast, while the oven was still on (impatient much?!). My finger hit the top rod for a split second. I didn’t feel anything, and hadn’t even noticed, until I smelled it… At first I thought one of my housemates had been bad and cooked something with meat in the toaster oven (which we have a rule against doing- no meat or drippy, fatty things in the toaster oven, damnit!), and that there might be a bit of meat stuck to one of the rods or something. Smelled quite nice, like grilled chicken. It was then that I felt the searing pain in my right middle finger and looked at it, only to find that there was a small patch of skin missing from the tip.

In my morning fog (I really should not be allowed to do anything before 10 am), I still wasn’t able to put together that it was my own flesh that was stuck to the toaster oven, until my hand passed in front of my face and the smell wafted off of my burnt finger. When it finally did dawn on me, and more so, when I realized that I had found the aroma of my own cooking flesh tantalizing, I was absolutely horrified. So there you have it, folks. Human flesh smells like chicken… at least mine does. Save the black jokes, thanks.

My plans for tonight= drinking a bottle of red all by my lonesome, eating a single-person frozen pizza, listening to the rain outside my window, jilling-off, trying not to cry and watching stupid shit on El Tubo. My friends are so far away… Can you say pity party? lol