if life were a musical.

it's saturday night and i'm home alone watching rent, the movie. the musical movie. i'm antisocial and he movie's kind of lame but i'm liking the aloneness, especially since it means that no one is complaining that i'm making them watch a bad movie.

i kind of want to sing all of my conversations now. i want to be like the characters in this movie and sing about how cold it is since my heat was turned off and how i can't afford to pay rent and how my T cell count is low. is it horrible that i'm amused that the HIV/AIDS support group is singing about their problems? is that supposed to be funny? this is why i love musicals. they're completely ridiculous.

speaking of ridiculous, shannon's boyfriend was hanging out in her room while she was at work today, and at some point while i was otherwise preoccupied with nintendo i heard fuck! fuck! fuck! but since it takes more than that to get my attention when the legend of zelda is involved, i ignored it. pete later told me that loomis--shannon's snake--had escaped and was busy fighting off the kitties. he put loomis back in the aquarium and i've been completely paranoid ever since. i keep checking on him to make sure he's still in there, though if he got out again i don't know what i would do (leave the house?). shannon's not all that helpful, either, because when i was like, dude, your snake escaped, she was all, no it didn't. what snake? loomis isn't venomous, but he is about three feet long and waking up with a snake in my bed is going to make the stove-peeing cat look good.

ETA: okay, i suppose if rent people are going to insist on dying, i'll quit laughing.