you do it to yourself
dude? see, now I just typed a bunch of bollocks and then erased it. it was booooooring. more boring than the following can possibly be, believe me.
my class went great, we got all of the props out in motion and no one was crushed to death behind the scenes. we got a solid 80% and got praised for the material. whatevah.
I wore the most wonderful dress today, red and white, and the most wonderful shoes as well; in my humble opinion I looked lovely, but I got mixed results, to be honest. it might have something to do with the fact that I work with a 90% gay population (but for some reason now I've become obsessed with getting used to the notion that it's because I'm not young anymore. which is absolute BOLLOCKS, right people? right?).
I got praised on the attire, which I suppose is as high as I can aspire to under such circumstances. I didn't appreciate it much when I had to trot all over the neighborhood chasing payments from two of my notorious archi-nemesis' closest relatives. talk about irony! but I digress; which is to say, I had to gallop for blocks and blocks in my smartass shoes whose straps wouldn't stay tied.
I lost my housekeys last saturday, did I mention that? put that on the 'way to go' points for eleanor. yep. I lost them and even though I might have a faint notion of where they might've ended up (maybe), there's no way I can hold a hope of ever getting them back. and the point of this piece of news is --that has consequences. today after my class --which was a yawning success-- I got home and of course, marianne was out picking up f at the airport. I rang on the boys' place and got no answer either.
so there I was with my pretty dress and smart shoes and my dumb flowers from class in hand, and I was readying myself to sit on the curb until someone came home, short dress or not, because I was wiped out. but right then a cab came with carter (neighbor scotsman #1) inside it. so I barged in their house with him, went up to the roof, and after a brief interlude with the secluded valentian, I peeled off the shoes, threw them over the fence that divides our rooftops --the very fence we keep swearing to take down every time we have to do this, and then we forget--, handed the carnations over to carter and told him that should anything happen, he was to call the ambulance first and marianne second, in that order, and then hoisted myself up on the fence and tiptoed on the wall around the rooftop and the fence. my purse was a pain because I couldn't sling it over as well, it had my cellphone and a flowervase in it --stop asking why. the strap got caught in the wirefence while I was still clinging there on the side of our houses like spider woman. thug, thug, snag snag, it came free, I jumped on the gas tank, hopped to the roof, and made a graceful V. I was safe. carter threw the carnations on my head and thus was my olympic fantasy complete.
and that was yay for what a great day for wearing a dress.
F, the third wheel within this perfect engine, came back from London tonight. I really can't express how glad I am that he's home; I wouldn't say we're really 'intimate', except on the fact that we're used to finding each other in our underwear and talking to ourselves; it's not like we really delve into each other's feelings or share every single detail of our lives; it's just nice to have his very own calm balancing share of khef back in the equation, and he's definitely a needed presence in this house populated by raging females --and a spawn of satan, sandokan.
so the class deal is over for now, but I'm still hung up on about 60 pages of work. the thing is that it keeps getting bigger as I work on it. which should be a good thing and isn't, on so many levels.
and now I'm going to bed, because I'm fading. I'm sure the world won't collapse if we let the transaxles rest for another day. I'm having breakfast with The Boy early tomorrow and I'll be damned if I won't get some sleep.
top 3 of I don't care much about nothin
1. wonder woman theme
2. all I can say -- blind melon
3. dancin in the streets -- martha and the vandellas
my class went great, we got all of the props out in motion and no one was crushed to death behind the scenes. we got a solid 80% and got praised for the material. whatevah.
I wore the most wonderful dress today, red and white, and the most wonderful shoes as well; in my humble opinion I looked lovely, but I got mixed results, to be honest. it might have something to do with the fact that I work with a 90% gay population (but for some reason now I've become obsessed with getting used to the notion that it's because I'm not young anymore. which is absolute BOLLOCKS, right people? right?).
I got praised on the attire, which I suppose is as high as I can aspire to under such circumstances. I didn't appreciate it much when I had to trot all over the neighborhood chasing payments from two of my notorious archi-nemesis' closest relatives. talk about irony! but I digress; which is to say, I had to gallop for blocks and blocks in my smartass shoes whose straps wouldn't stay tied.
I lost my housekeys last saturday, did I mention that? put that on the 'way to go' points for eleanor. yep. I lost them and even though I might have a faint notion of where they might've ended up (maybe), there's no way I can hold a hope of ever getting them back. and the point of this piece of news is --that has consequences. today after my class --which was a yawning success-- I got home and of course, marianne was out picking up f at the airport. I rang on the boys' place and got no answer either.
so there I was with my pretty dress and smart shoes and my dumb flowers from class in hand, and I was readying myself to sit on the curb until someone came home, short dress or not, because I was wiped out. but right then a cab came with carter (neighbor scotsman #1) inside it. so I barged in their house with him, went up to the roof, and after a brief interlude with the secluded valentian, I peeled off the shoes, threw them over the fence that divides our rooftops --the very fence we keep swearing to take down every time we have to do this, and then we forget--, handed the carnations over to carter and told him that should anything happen, he was to call the ambulance first and marianne second, in that order, and then hoisted myself up on the fence and tiptoed on the wall around the rooftop and the fence. my purse was a pain because I couldn't sling it over as well, it had my cellphone and a flowervase in it --stop asking why. the strap got caught in the wirefence while I was still clinging there on the side of our houses like spider woman. thug, thug, snag snag, it came free, I jumped on the gas tank, hopped to the roof, and made a graceful V. I was safe. carter threw the carnations on my head and thus was my olympic fantasy complete.
and that was yay for what a great day for wearing a dress.
F, the third wheel within this perfect engine, came back from London tonight. I really can't express how glad I am that he's home; I wouldn't say we're really 'intimate', except on the fact that we're used to finding each other in our underwear and talking to ourselves; it's not like we really delve into each other's feelings or share every single detail of our lives; it's just nice to have his very own calm balancing share of khef back in the equation, and he's definitely a needed presence in this house populated by raging females --and a spawn of satan, sandokan.
so the class deal is over for now, but I'm still hung up on about 60 pages of work. the thing is that it keeps getting bigger as I work on it. which should be a good thing and isn't, on so many levels.
and now I'm going to bed, because I'm fading. I'm sure the world won't collapse if we let the transaxles rest for another day. I'm having breakfast with The Boy early tomorrow and I'll be damned if I won't get some sleep.
top 3 of I don't care much about nothin
1. wonder woman theme
2. all I can say -- blind melon
3. dancin in the streets -- martha and the vandellas
posted by gaby san at
2/23/2006 12:23:00 AM
1 Comments:
:D You make me smile so often. *hugs*
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