yeow

Today I was reminded why I do not like to visit certain friends. It's not because we tend to disagree on things, or that I feel weird when hanging out with a friend, their fuckbuddy and some of their friends... It's because I am not a walker. Oh, sure, I'll walk through a store or twelve in pursuit of something, and I'll walk up to get some ice cream goodness, but I'm not really fond of walking from store, to store, to store across a variety of highways.

I have the blisters to prove this theory. Ow. Ow, ow, ow, ow ow. This wasn't helped by having to chase the nephew here, there, and everywhere. Ow. I hurt.

To show for it, other than the blisters, I have a new myscene Chelsea [I wish I'd looked closer at her makeup. Woe.], a caramel filled candy bar, and the memory of an iced cappucino with a shot of espresso and whipped cream. Mmmmm.

In order to get that I had to walk through the mall, shop around the closing KB, to the jewelry store next door, back to Cass's place of employment, to Books-A-Million, across the highway to Toys R Us, down to PetsMart, across the parking lot to Walmart's parking lot, across that parking lot, skip across some street, hit Target, cross River's Avenue [again, I think], and walk to Cass's apartment.

Can I say it again? OW.

I should be watching Tru Calling, but I realized that chances were very good that my email box had exploded. What do you know... it did. :p

*props her feet up and dies*

Oh, and I'm coming down with a cold. Wheeee.