Do my posts NEED a title?

Tonight is the premiere of Lady Gaga's Telephone video and this is fucking epic.
I woke up at 2:30 today to find my door wide open with all of my lights on, listening to the sounds of my alarm my mother must have set, combined with the death awakening roar of an antique vacuum my mother has decided to use outside my door.
rude.
I see a bland note on my TV saying:
"Hot water heater not working, the mechanic can't fix your car til next week, - a family friend - has died. Love, Mom"

Simple reminder that life sucks. :)
ANYWHO. I'm leaving to work out at 5:45pm sharp. I guess I'm just going for use of the abundance of full mirrors, but after that, shit hits the fan. like splatters. everywhere. like chunks in the mouth.
dramatic?
I have to:
1.) Decide if I'm going to the hipster's premiere party
2.) COME UP WITH SOMETHING TO WEAR
3.) Decide how I'm getting to where ever I'm going
4.) Find money to go to where ever I'm going
5.) Figure out how my outfit will fit through the door

whatever the case may be, I'll have glitter and look fabulous.
If available tonight, I've recruited some friends to take pictures of me and the crew as we walk from our car to the door of the club. HAHA!
live lavishly. rah rah.