My good friend Carrie deleted her Facebook account today which is momentous because SHE IS AWESOME at Facebook and together with Janie, the three of us rock the shit out of it with our hot dialogues. She decided she needed to focus on school and life for a while so she deleted her account and I have to say, I miss her already. Mostly I miss her because it deleted all her comments and it looks like I spent five years having long, detailed conversations with myself WHICH I HAVE BUT NOT ON FACEBOOK, thank you very much.
Anyhow, I wished her farewell on her final status update and I’ve posted it below because you all need to know what I’ll be missing out on. And what you have been missing out on for years because you haven’t friended me on Facebook yet. Why? I am hilarious. You should. I have references. Carrie is/was one. See below.
Also, Janie is spending three days cat-sitting and I’m left to my own devices here in the condo. I think we all remember what happened the last two times I was left alone. I became the Homeowner’s Association VP (and they refuse to vote me out even when I steal all our money to buy cocaine and hookers) and then there was that one time I burned off part of my eyebrow. My point is, it will be a miracle if I don’t burn this place down totally on purpose because PLEASE SOMEONE BUY THIS CONDO SO WE CAN MOVE ON WITH OUR LIVES.
I was chatting with my mom and sister this weekend about how interesting it will be to live alone again, because I cannot be trusted to not do something stupid. My mother said she was looking forward to retiring so she and my dad can check in on me regularly and make sure I’m still alive and not very badly high on PCP and making birth control pills out of cat food that I will sell on eBay to unsuspecting teenage girls. Then my sister suggested I might be the first 34 year old who has to move into assisted living because she needs round the clock supervision. Then I suggested I could just hire myself a nanny and since they get cheaper with age, I’ll practically have to pay nothing at all but my dignity. This, I believe, is called marriage.