Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You can go your own way I am shocked, SHOCKED, that nobody took me up on my offer to explain the thematic linkage between saintly anorexia and scrapbooking. Are you people all asleep out there? Meanwhile, I'm quietly thankful that notbody called me on that, because A) I don't really have any thematic linkages, and B) my brain currently resembles a slowly congealing bucket of oatmeal. My life thus far consists of figuring out how many people I owe money to. Boy, look at that list, huh? Topping the charts is, of course, the IRS. I have to start making payments to them ASAP, and the only think stopping me is that, guess what - we now owe money to the garage for fixing the Bonnie. Seven hundred and fifty bucks, thankyouverymuch, and it's not more than that because the mechanic only charged us two hours of labor, which technically speaking saved us a couple hundred bucks. Note that the saving of a couple hundred bucks doesn't make me much happier about the whole thing. At this rate, we'll still be second-carless for a few more weeks, until we can scrape together the cash. All of this seems particularly irritating as I sit here at eight at night, with my shoulders aching like sore teeth, because I put in another eight hours at Petsmart. Fuckety fuck fuck. It's not like it's grueling, Manor House sweeping-up-after-the-gentry work, but it's dull and after a while my back, shoulders, and feet are screaming. Plus, there's the fact that I have no day completely to my self anymore. Go on, play that tiny violin for me. I know. I could be eating cat food and living in a box under an overpass. In other news, Bemo and the boys debuted their new singer yesterday, and it was really cool to see the level of support they got. They sounded like a real band in many ways - much more confident and polished. Which is why I feel a little sheepish to reveal that although I can see (or hear) that they are more interesting and technically *better* now, they have also moved into an area mostly known as Music Genibee Doesn't Really Care For. I prefer more fluidly vocal lead singers, like the very talented Eve to Adam that followed ATF onstage. (ok, the nipple rings on the EtA lead singer was a bonus. Some guys really carry those off very well. Rrrrrow.) But I'm a little embarassed to admit that I don't really care for the music my husband is making now. But, you know, it's his band, and he's happy (mostly) and heck, they even made a couple of bucks last night because they sold all their tickets, so what the fuck. The fact that I liked them best when they were totally instrumental is just my little quirk. Arrgh, shoulders aching - going to go lie down now. 8:07 p.m. - 2003-05-04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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