The cons of boobs

God, I hate being a woman some days.

I walk into my house tonight, log onto MSN and wander into the bathroom to grab my tweezers and creme bleach for a fun-filled evenings of beautification and hair removal.

2 seconds after I've applied it and say down with a glass of peach juice and a cigarette, my doorbell rings.

I frantically grab paper towel to smudge it off my face before going to see who's interrupting my obviously VERY busy evening, and it's Matt.

He looks at my blotchy face and points at a spot on my upper lip that apparently I'd managed to miss and wanders in like he didn't just interrupt a hallowed single girl night to let me know what's up.

Apparently he's going out on a brand new rig steady for about the next 4 years in my hometown!

He was stopping by to see if there's anyone I might know in the DC area who might be looking for a roommate or have a place to rent.

I told him I'd ask around (a note for any Dawson Creek-ians, -ers, -anites to drop me a line if this is the case) and just made him promise to call me, no matter how drunk or horny he was before he slept with any local so Corey and I could compare notes and let him know her cleanliness rating. It's the least I can do.