Wrath.
I am having a BAD day.
We got up really early this morning to go to the DMV to get new driver's licenses, cause Kristen needs a Virginia one and I need one with my new name on it. It took forever to park because the lot was full of douchebags. We got our numbers, sat down, and waited for about an hour and a half. Then there was a power surge, and the cameras all broke. At first they guy in charge thought that they could be fixed reasonably soon, so we just waited, and listened to the nasty woman next to us talking about how everyone working at the DMV was "fucking retarded" (obviously - nothing short of a sub-standard IQ could possibly cause a power surge) and just going on and on about how awful they all were. I'm no big fan of the DMV or its employees, but that was just unnecessary. Eventually they announced that they wouldn't be able to get the cameras working again soon, so we left.
Back home, I worked on the dress that I was going to wear to Manal's wedding. A while ago Kristen got this really beautiful dark green taffeta and we'd already cut the pieces for an awesome retro dress. I'd never done a zipper before, and I fucked it up royally, sewing the fabric too close to the zipper so that it couldn't actually zip without getting stuck. So I got to spend over an hour taking it out, which blew.
Oh, and our air conditioning is broken. It's been 84 degrees in this apartment for weeks. It's sometimes really cold right under the vent on the left side of the couch, but the rest of the apartment is unbearable. End tangent.
I got the zipper out, fixed it, finished the bastard, and it looked like crap. It just plain didn't fit me. It was too tight across the nipples (and nowhere else), and stuck out in a really bizarre way around the arms and chest, and was totally un-fixable. I tried it on with three different bras, and it still looked awful. Kristen tried it on, and it looked awful on her too.
Now Kristen is cutting fabric for another dress, which we'll try to finish tomorrow.
The worst part of my day, though, might have been being made aware of the existence of Beatles slash. The very thought makes my toes want to hide in my feet and my skin leap off my body and go whimper in a corner. Kristen described the noises I made upon finding out about it as "Mrs. Black behind the curtain."
We got up really early this morning to go to the DMV to get new driver's licenses, cause Kristen needs a Virginia one and I need one with my new name on it. It took forever to park because the lot was full of douchebags. We got our numbers, sat down, and waited for about an hour and a half. Then there was a power surge, and the cameras all broke. At first they guy in charge thought that they could be fixed reasonably soon, so we just waited, and listened to the nasty woman next to us talking about how everyone working at the DMV was "fucking retarded" (obviously - nothing short of a sub-standard IQ could possibly cause a power surge) and just going on and on about how awful they all were. I'm no big fan of the DMV or its employees, but that was just unnecessary. Eventually they announced that they wouldn't be able to get the cameras working again soon, so we left.
Back home, I worked on the dress that I was going to wear to Manal's wedding. A while ago Kristen got this really beautiful dark green taffeta and we'd already cut the pieces for an awesome retro dress. I'd never done a zipper before, and I fucked it up royally, sewing the fabric too close to the zipper so that it couldn't actually zip without getting stuck. So I got to spend over an hour taking it out, which blew.
Oh, and our air conditioning is broken. It's been 84 degrees in this apartment for weeks. It's sometimes really cold right under the vent on the left side of the couch, but the rest of the apartment is unbearable. End tangent.
I got the zipper out, fixed it, finished the bastard, and it looked like crap. It just plain didn't fit me. It was too tight across the nipples (and nowhere else), and stuck out in a really bizarre way around the arms and chest, and was totally un-fixable. I tried it on with three different bras, and it still looked awful. Kristen tried it on, and it looked awful on her too.
Now Kristen is cutting fabric for another dress, which we'll try to finish tomorrow.
The worst part of my day, though, might have been being made aware of the existence of Beatles slash. The very thought makes my toes want to hide in my feet and my skin leap off my body and go whimper in a corner. Kristen described the noises I made upon finding out about it as "Mrs. Black behind the curtain."