trendymatt's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'm sure shame is forthcoming. Alright, point #1 for tonight: If I had a child my age, I would beat his or her ass twelve times to Sunday for driving home in the state I did tonight after a night at the ritual Monday night karaoke-fest at Mia's. Because, damn. Point #2: I am supposed to be on the road to L'ville to spend all day at a school in T-minus five and a half hours. I rule. My extremities are still tingly. Point #3: My horoscope for the month (yes, I honestly consult horoscopes for occasional guidance... like that doesn't conflict with the image I try to project as a logical, by-the-book sort) said of this very evening: If you want to meet someone for the first time (in the romantic sense) for a drink or a cup of coffee, choose this day. Dazzling results should flow from it. Thus, I accepted the invitation from Sarah to attend homo karaoke tonight. I met nobody new, save for Sarah's former German teacher from high school who was admittedly a hot, hot man. But he left before I could put my moves on him. Shut up. I have moves. You don't know. Maybe I should continue holding out for my latest Starbuck's crush... the guy who works at the local S-Bux drive-thru whom I've fancied lately. Yep. I'm British. Point #4 (or more accurately, an addendum to Point #2): Did I mention that I am supposed to be on my way to L'ville in a little over 5 hours? Point #5: Last Thursday I spent about $150 on updating my wardrobe, courtesy of my recently paid-down Mastercard. Says the aforementioned horoscope: You are suddenly in the mood to shop, but go easy�if you buy all the things you "need," you would need an 18-wheeler to truck it all home, dear Libra. By the time your bill arrives, you might have to head for Brazil, permanently. Ah, blame Mars, now in your second house, certain to burn a hole in your pocket. A day late and a dollar short, dear horoscope. Brazil, here I come. Point #6: For all that I bought for that $150, it was all worth my new pair of "Hot Ass" Calvin Klein jeans, which do, in fact, make my ass look quite hot - not to mention that they cost me a mere $11 at the clearance rack at Marshall's. Point #7: In the spirit of a Cragslist.com Missed Connection post: You were the late 20's/early 30's-ish guy with short blonde hair, blue eyes, and wearing a tan pullover sweater at the bar at Mia's at karaoke night. I was the mid 20's-ish guy in the rust-colored v-neck sweater and black wool coat hanging with my adorable lesbian compadre, and sang a smashing rendition of Zoot Suit Riot early in the evening. I found you captivating all night, but didn't say anything because I'm Rico Suave. I want to have like 10,000 of your babies. Would you move out to the country with me and buy me a Volvo? Before I write more that I will regret later, I shall retreat to my bed. Consider this a public service announcement, kids. Alcohol on a weeknight is bad. Do as I say, not as I do. 12:52 am - 11.09.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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