Most Saturday nights, I want to shake off the stale stench of the work week by partying it up with my friends, staying up too late, and cursing myself on Sunday mornings when I have to post on this website (JK! I’m not hungover when I write these articles!*). However, every once in awhile, I like to stay in, take a relax, and enjoy some “me” time– I’m worth it! Here are my tips for spending a Saturday night in the comfort of your abode:
Slip into a pair of silk pajamas. Marvel at the sheen of the fabric, and shudder with glee as you feel the luxurious material slither down your body. Look in the mirror and think about how lucky you are to inherit your mother’s prominent cheekbones, and that your hair is doing that Brigitte Bardot perfectly-disheveled bedhead thing. Daintily tip-toe to your kitchen and retrieve the bottle of wine that you bought on your way home from work yesterday. After pausing for a moment, decide that you will indulge by popping a single dark chocolate into your mouth. Pour a glass of wine for yourself and return to your bedroom, where you slide under your sheets and let yourself melt into the many luscious pillows on your four-post bed. Peruse the channel directory on digital cable, and notice that Breathless is on. Oh, how you love the French New Wave (or anything French, period)! Research plane tickets to Paris– you have plenty of paid vacation days, and Paris in the Springtime is just as grand as the song says! Fall peacefully to sleep thinking of the gorgeous Frenchman that you’ll no doubt meet during your time abroad.
Sounds fabulous, right? But who am I kidding– you’re reading Broke-Ass Stuart’s Goddamn Website, not GOOP! While I may be a satin nighty-wearing Bardot in my dreams, my personal Saturday-Nights-In usually play out as follows:
I slip out of the $3 dress that I bought from some toothless lady on a street corner, and into the men’s size XL Coors Light t-shirt that I got for free at a trashy bar. I look in the mirror and think about how I am getting jawline acne because I always pass out before washing my face at night. I also think about how I desperately need a haircut, but can’t afford one. I trim my own bangs, which I cut way too short because they accidentally come out crooked the first three times that I take scissors to them. I concede to the fact that I will look like a kindergartener on Picture Day for the the next two weeks. I go into the kitchen and open the fridge, which– as usual– is empty. I curse under my breath because, at 24, I am still not responsible enough to go grocery shopping on the reg. However, my spirits lift when I find a “Grab Bag” of Flaming Hot Cheetos in the back of the pantry. I clomp my flat feet and my Flaming Hot prize back to my bedroom, where I wait for my computer to start up. It takes forever (cue the cursing under my breath again). I search the “serious cinema” that I should be watching on Netflix, but opt for Beverly Hills 90210 instead. I think the following deep thoughts:
1) “Damn, Luke Perry looks hella old. I kind of want that baja he is wearing. I bet I can thrift one.”
2) “Ugh, why is my roommate arguing with her boyfriend again?! Why, Forces Above– why can’t I afford to live alone?”
3) “Why are there so many Hot Cheeto crumbs in my bed? I’m disgusting.”
I pass out in the pile of Hot Cheeto crumbs, and wake up feeling refreshed.
Although my reality may be somewhat declasse, I sincerely enjoy my nights in. Comfortable clothes, mindless entertainment, and cholo snacks– what more could anyone want? Whether you’re planning a getaway to gay Pare-ree or wondering why Shannen Doherty was considered such a 90s heartthrob (homegirl is kinda tore up), the point is that it’s important to kick back and recharge once in awhile. Inhale that Grab Bag of Hot Cheetos– you’re worth it!
* Lies! My head’s gonna explode right now.
Image via tre a la mode