of trouser socks and lipstick prints

i just made it home from day 1 of a 2-day work-related all science, all day, all out extravaganza, for which i arose at 5.45 this morning. i'm exhausted from looking grown-up and was in the house for 5 seconds before i began my swan dive into the bag of veggie booty, and am now leaving little flecks of kale flavor bits on kz's keyboard. i survived my gig as microphone runner, along with the other runners who were talented enough (read: young and female enough) to be selected.

i spent the afternoon session drawing super mario villains on my talk schedule but did indeed learn quite a bit.

i also managed to incur the wrath of every native worcesterite by attempting the "simple" task of going back 'the way i came' (in quotes because this concept does not seem to apply within a 5 mile radius of 290) from the DCU center to 290 east. haha. i figured out-of-state plates would buy me some mercy points when, every single time i wanted to turn, i was doing it diagnoally and from the non-turning lane. at least a lot of people got free horn-tests today.

and i'm spent

you know you're getting too old for "this shit" when, after a night out with friends, you're tired enough that pipetting through your filmy sheath of consciousness feels akin to a DUI.

last night's royksopp show was fan-freaking-tastic, right down to the 2 hours outside scamming for tix, energized by memories of adolescent vigor; getting in at the last minute with kz, and finding out that katsu and e$ made it in for free to see the last few tunes. the stuff they dropped was amazing, and when the opening to 'remind me' thudded into my feet and through to my scalp, i totally remembered that religious moment feeling, like when i first saw phish and they played 'bouncin round the room,' or the opening riffs to 'airbag' when i sat atop my brother's shoulders at radiohead. in my eyeballs and out my fingertips, between my toes and down my spine, that was some fucking music.

in denial of our working-man's hours and pauperish states, we declared the night to be young and went for a quick slice before hitting up drum and bass at elements for a guinness and some skull-thumping chunky beats. we made it to bed around 3, and boy did that hurt for the 9 to 5. i got through the day with 2 very large coffees, one from dunkies and one from starbucks, lest i miss out on any proprietary stimulants by being too brand-selective.

midway through starting an hplc run, i realized that the computer screen was pulsing as though i were hungover, and my mouth felt like i'd smoked all night and huffed a wood-burning stove for breakfast. having only had one beer and no cigarettes, i can only attribute this to a weird physical reaction. it's called getting old, and burning the candle at both ends.

(but it gives a lovely light. to totally rip off some millay).

digital debauchery

so it's here:
pix from shanna's bachelorette party

though our wallets and livers may be reeling, it was a grand time for all. i must say, i've never heard such awesome "that time i wet myself" stories, had such bad scallops, said "bitches, come!" so many times, been made such great bombay sapphire and tonics with such great alacrity, tortured a taxicab driver to that extent, been able to enjoy a post-sox game T ride so much, dropped a lit clove in the gutter so quickly, laid down such funky moves in such uncomfy shoes, or been sandwiched between so many awesome ladies on the dance floor in my life. and i also can't remember a hangover that poignant followed by such tasty huevos rancheros.

shanna, tressor, e$, meg, and sequina - you kids rock my world. what an awesome weekend. and to think, after all that craziness and aided by the power of a wendy's classic double combo, i went home and fixed my power steering leak, just like that. (thanks also to rabbitnutz on that score).

Bachelorette partay!

gyne-gymnosperms?

i was waiting in line for a pap smear (rather, waiting for the receptionist to check me in for my pap smear - they may herd us like cattle but they don't line us up outside the exam room and huck spent q-tips out the door as we go through), which is bad enough annually but rather unbearable at my current interval, once every 3 months. and i noticed a poster entitled "women's gynecological cancer awareness month." and since we as a country have more causes than the calendar can accomodate, we must have beat out "midget granny porn star lymphoma month" or what have you. but i'm supportive; functioning and healthy reproductive organs are quite necessary for getting your groove thang on and making babies. what i don't understand are the cutout pictures of flowers pasted around the title. flowers? am i supposed to have these eye-catching flora spawn subliminal messages about my cooter? do you look at a lily or a daisy and go, 'yep. flowers. vaginas.' what pastoral pictures would they have up there if it were prostate awareness month? cutouts of cucumbers and gherkins? radishes and parsnips? would that immediately equate to "oh, that must be a poster about the old twig and berries?" i just wonder. if you put up an icon of, say, a space invader, i might be more apt to make the connection that this poster pertains to my...yeah.

happy 2 year anniversary

kz and sabominator, making people sick since day 1...