As I mentioned, my man is in LA and tonight he was hanging out at Pete Wentz's douchepad. Our friend Brian is their guitar tech and Pete threw him a birthday party complete with Ashlee Simpson, Eve (the rapper, yes), and Hawthorne Heights. Oh yeah, and I'm sure tons of fake as shit Hollywood babes. AWESOME. This is what I have to look forward to while apart. I am totally boring in comparison to any of that to him I'm sure.
As for my night, me, Miguel, Richie, Omar, Sarah, Jessica, David, Amanda, and Marty went to Maryville Sanitarium out by O'Hare. Not really haunted, but totally fucking creepy. And no cops this time, so that meant no trouble. I pee peed in one of the padded rooms and wasn't even bothered. I did, however, walk away with a totally old screenprinted poster about the joys of communication and two giant flashcards. We went to Steak n' Shake afterwards. Not really a party at PW's house, but crucial hang time for us Chicago kids. Next Friday: Bachelor's Grove. It's apparently the most haunted cemetery in the world according to paranormal experts. Whatever, this is how we have fun. Kickball, then ghosts.
Oh, and I ordered a new pair of tan shearling I-Path mids. They are my version of Uggs. Yet totally amazing and in no way shitty or to be worn with short skirts and a fake tan in the middle of a Chicago winter.
Speaking of Chicago winter, it's quickly encroaching on my moped riding. Today I thought my fingers were going to fall off like icicles overhanging a garage and my legs were numb by the time I got home from class downtown. Total bummer. Oh well. Time for me to go to my boring, un-Fall Out Boy filled bedroom and sleep my totally lame sleep that I have every night. You know, the one that is really lonely since he splitsvilled to the left coast.
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