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recrudescence) wrote2008-01-14 03:48 pm
recrudescence) wrote2008-01-14 03:48 pm
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Hi, new friends! I'm sorry the first entry of mine you see is probably going to shatter any respect you might have for me. Welcome!
No sleep again last night, so I headed to today's breakfast event riding high on a touch of the plague and a Diet Coke. Whoo. Choked down two cups of coffee, each with about five packets of Equal, and OH GOD THE PAIN. I felt it staining my teeth and stunting my growth and souring my stomach and, and, and... Ew. I seriously cannot remember the last time I was desperate enough to try coffee.
So, yeah, today was pretty much a "Holy crap, I look like crap" kind of Monday. Got a run in my stockings like like a flesh-colored comet shooting down my Achilles tendon into my fetching kitten heel. Woe! However, I was wearing this stretchy Escher-ish houndstooth trumpet skirt that looks like something Gwen Stefani vomited up backstage. Seriously, it's amazing. Seriously, I'm not usually this superficial, either.
I was supposed to go salsa with Xanthe tonight, but she also has the plague, and I ended up declining an invitation to eat with my family before the little Gorgon (freshly returned from a Commedia dell'Arte study in Italy) goes back to school. Cuddy would never stand for this sort of tomfoolery. Cuddy would probably never wear Gwen Stefani vomit, either.
And since I still can't sleep, I think I might write porn. Because everyone knows that's always a cure-all.
No sleep again last night, so I headed to today's breakfast event riding high on a touch of the plague and a Diet Coke. Whoo. Choked down two cups of coffee, each with about five packets of Equal, and OH GOD THE PAIN. I felt it staining my teeth and stunting my growth and souring my stomach and, and, and... Ew. I seriously cannot remember the last time I was desperate enough to try coffee.
So, yeah, today was pretty much a "Holy crap, I look like crap" kind of Monday. Got a run in my stockings like like a flesh-colored comet shooting down my Achilles tendon into my fetching kitten heel. Woe! However, I was wearing this stretchy Escher-ish houndstooth trumpet skirt that looks like something Gwen Stefani vomited up backstage. Seriously, it's amazing. Seriously, I'm not usually this superficial, either.
I was supposed to go salsa with Xanthe tonight, but she also has the plague, and I ended up declining an invitation to eat with my family before the little Gorgon (freshly returned from a Commedia dell'Arte study in Italy) goes back to school. Cuddy would never stand for this sort of tomfoolery. Cuddy would probably never wear Gwen Stefani vomit, either.
And since I still can't sleep, I think I might write porn. Because everyone knows that's always a cure-all.
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