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Ben Folds, Howie Day and Matt Nathanson tomorrow!

*swoons*

Goddamn

Goddamn foot, goddamn legs, goddamn doubles, goddamn hogus.

Goddamn being broken.

That is all.

Waiting....

I feel like I'm expecting an e-mail at any moment. But I don't know from who. Or why.

Ick...

Just feeling sick. Not physically, just mentally and emotionally. Is the weekend almost here?

Headed Home

Headed home, loves. It's rather odd, as it feels like I'm leaving one, only to go to another. Ah well, such is life. I'll see you at the end of the road.

Jul. 28th, 2003

Too much of a good thing...

Heheheh, avoiding doing work I cooked up a batch of hot chocolate. You know, the kind that you use baking powder and milk and sugar and vanilla? Where the chocolate kinda clumps at the bottom and it's kinda gross to drink, but the liquid part's amazing. Anyhoo, I decided to be creative. Bad idea. With the addition and liquidy whipped cream, the whole thing went to hell in a handbasket. There were bits of cinnamon floating around in the hot chocolate that felt like little pieces of dandruff or ceiling plaster. There was a Shel Silverstein poem about a piece of skying in some girl's soup and how it tasted like plaster, but how good it made the soup. Well, sadly, cinnamon is no chunk of sky. Live and learn.

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