It takes a lot to push my buttons. But once they're pushed...well
All right, so put up a guest entry and then I get some time to actually compose a few incoherent thoughts.
So. Button pushing. It takes a fair bit to get me really upset. But when I do, I don't scream (at first). Usually the frustration just overwhelms me and my hands begin to shake. And then I start to cry. Sort of. I hate crying. So I guess it would be more accurate to say I choke on my tears. Which just makes me even madder.
Like I said, I loathe crying.
13 June 2003
11 June 2003
GUEST ENTRY by RD'S HENCHWOMAN
(because the resident dictator is busy)
Being short makes me laugh.
Case in point:
Like almost everyone in my family, I am of small stature. Read: almost midget-like. A whole whopping 5 feet and 1 inch. Ordinarily, I am super fine with this. I can always maneuver my way through a crowd like a hot knife through butter, and it's very easy to tell when a guy is looking at my tits and not my face (I'm not THAT short). Besides, if I feel like being tall I'll just strap some heels on. But the one situation I can never outsmart is a very heel-unfriendly large concert.
As a result of some serious ass-busting at work, I was given box seats to a concert last night. Pearl Jam, to be specific. (Who, by the way, freaking ROCKED. Never have I been so turned on by a voice. I finally get the phone sex thing now. Oh yeah, and the music was phenomenal as
well.) Anyhoo, the "box seats" at the venue are just that, seats with a box around them. No elevation, which proved to be a problem. There are other amenities, like nice cushiony chairs and a waitress to fetch your beers and food. But she was nonexistent and who the heck sits at a concert anyway?
So, of course, the 6 foot 5 football players are standing right in front of out seats. Normally not a problem, you just look through the gap between their heads and that's that. These guys were really feelin' it, though, for the whole show. I mean REALLY. They danced the entire time, and not in the head-bobbin', rawk-on way most concert-goers dance. They were Johnny Rockstars, weavin' and shakin' and in general providing some great entertainment to the one they stood in front of...me. Just imagine these two fellas, now picture some lil shorty behind them swaying along so she could get a glimpse of Mr. Sexypants himself, Eddie Vedder. It was a good workout. My thighs and calves are loving life today.
I'm not upset or anything - still got to see PJ for the first time ever and for free to boot. And it's one of those things you'll never forget.
I guess there are always elevator shoes for future concerts. Either that or I'll show my tits and get backstage.
Being short makes me laugh.
Case in point:
Like almost everyone in my family, I am of small stature. Read: almost midget-like. A whole whopping 5 feet and 1 inch. Ordinarily, I am super fine with this. I can always maneuver my way through a crowd like a hot knife through butter, and it's very easy to tell when a guy is looking at my tits and not my face (I'm not THAT short). Besides, if I feel like being tall I'll just strap some heels on. But the one situation I can never outsmart is a very heel-unfriendly large concert.
As a result of some serious ass-busting at work, I was given box seats to a concert last night. Pearl Jam, to be specific. (Who, by the way, freaking ROCKED. Never have I been so turned on by a voice. I finally get the phone sex thing now. Oh yeah, and the music was phenomenal as
well.) Anyhoo, the "box seats" at the venue are just that, seats with a box around them. No elevation, which proved to be a problem. There are other amenities, like nice cushiony chairs and a waitress to fetch your beers and food. But she was nonexistent and who the heck sits at a concert anyway?
So, of course, the 6 foot 5 football players are standing right in front of out seats. Normally not a problem, you just look through the gap between their heads and that's that. These guys were really feelin' it, though, for the whole show. I mean REALLY. They danced the entire time, and not in the head-bobbin', rawk-on way most concert-goers dance. They were Johnny Rockstars, weavin' and shakin' and in general providing some great entertainment to the one they stood in front of...me. Just imagine these two fellas, now picture some lil shorty behind them swaying along so she could get a glimpse of Mr. Sexypants himself, Eddie Vedder. It was a good workout. My thighs and calves are loving life today.
I'm not upset or anything - still got to see PJ for the first time ever and for free to boot. And it's one of those things you'll never forget.
I guess there are always elevator shoes for future concerts. Either that or I'll show my tits and get backstage.
02 June 2003
Hey! Who put my face on that milk carton?!
I've only half dropped off the face of the earth. Promise.
See, I was *just* about to upload The Work Website That I Have Been Working On Forever when the boss decided to change his mind about the layout and logo I had done. Which means I get to redo them. Which sucks.
See, I was *just* about to upload The Work Website That I Have Been Working On Forever when the boss decided to change his mind about the layout and logo I had done. Which means I get to redo them. Which sucks.
15 May 2003
Bugger
In the wee hours of the morn, I sat in front of the Colosseo trying to get some pictures of the eclipse as it peeked out from the clouds. No go. Am cranky.
SIAMO NOI I CAMPIONI DI ITALIA
Juventus has secured the scudetto, the Serie A championship.
And tonight beat out the fearsome Real Madrid 3-1 for an aggregate win of 4-2 to advance to the finals of the Champions League.
WOOT!
AC Milan against Juventus in the finals on the 28th. I am a happy little footie slut.
Siamo noi/ siamo noi/ i campioni di Italia siamo noi
And tonight beat out the fearsome Real Madrid 3-1 for an aggregate win of 4-2 to advance to the finals of the Champions League.
WOOT!
AC Milan against Juventus in the finals on the 28th. I am a happy little footie slut.
Siamo noi/ siamo noi/ i campioni di Italia siamo noi
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)