Despite my reservations, I managed to have a kick-awesome weekend. Friday was a little craptastic: I was exhausted from Blake's nocturnal conversations and my classes were asses. On the way home my lock started screeching, which, when I got home, meant that I couldn't open that door from the outside. I couldn't get a hold of Dirk, my dad was late from work, the Boy was demonically cranky...and I decided to chuck it all. The car was the last straw; when my dad started to yell at me about not mentioning the lock, I lost it and started to sob. I cried for a solid twenty minutes, sniffling & wailing & the whole bit. It actually made me feel so much better that by the time Dirk returned my call, I was reasonably serene.

And then my dad blew my circuits by telling me that the car wasn't so bad. Which I knew. But since I thought he was going to make a big fuss and because the Boy was in such a stinky mood I hadn't wanted to bother.

But then we did.

And I spent all night dancing with my best friend. So in the end? All good.

Besides, I got to dress like a bee in a black dress, meet Dirk's knocked up roommate, and snark about the dj playing "The Beautiful People" (because Paul never ever ever played Marilyn Manson-that was for the chumps at the Skanktuary) after busting a lung because I was dancing so hard. To Marilyn Manson.

Love.

Next week I'm chaperoning the semi-formal. My students have been gravely informing me that they will not be in class the day before (to prepare) and the day after (to recover). I am not amused.

"What are you wearing to semi-formal, miss?"
"Oh, I don't know."
"You want to know what I'm wearing?"
"Sure."
"An excellent dress!"

I'm going to try this entry again. An opinion pollster called when I was almost done the first paragraph, and the effort of assigning numbered rankings to political issues has turned my brain to cabbage.

- 0 comments/hedgehogs -

- Rocketbride's adventure of 12/19/2005 04:19:00 p.m.