Bottles of Chateau Diana consumed: Uh, like 5? (Yeah, I know, pathetic, especially considering that it contains less alcohol by volume than tap water in some Eastern European countries.)
Cigarettes smoked: Eleventy hundred and four. Give or take a pack.
Calories consumed: I dunno, how many calories are there in a small country? What about after you smother it in Nutella?
Calories worked off by moving between the futon and the laptop, which plays music: About 18. (We eventually realized that we could move the laptop to the futon, greatly streamlining the process.)
Hours spent listening to music: Oh, 20 or so.
Songs we heard during this time: About 5. But they are really good.
Men we hate: 2
Men we love: 2
Does that add up to 4?: No, 2.
Women we hate: 2. No, wait, 3.
Women we love: 2.
Does that still add up to 2?: No! What the fuck is wrong with you??? GOD!!!! . . . oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell, I'm just kinda pissed off. I HATE THAT BITCH! Oh, sorry, didn't mean to yell.
Angry phone calls received: 1.5 - 2, depending on whether you use the metric system or not.
Length of time it will take to purge the scent of tobacco, alcohol and twitching malaise from clothes, apartment, hair, skin, capillaries, etc.: Long enough for us to become normal, functioning human beings. Yeah, I know, I can't fathom it either.
(this stream of inanity is fondly dedicated to my partner in crime. The 2 women we love? I - presumptuously enough - meant each other ;)
Renata is a writer, photographer, and aspiring pirate. She has a day job (sometimes), but doesn't like to talk about it. She lives primarily on the interwebs but maintains imaginary vacation properties all over the world. Her body usually resides in Brooklyn, New York.
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