(no subject)
This weekend is going to be so strange. I can't wait. Friday I cook dinner for cloyne, and I'm actually very excited about it. I like to cook. Saturday morning is the cloyne brunch (theme: irish wake). we will be smashed by noon, passed out by two. mark my words. then saturday night, if the stars align right (meaning, if I wake from my drunken stupor early enough) I'm going to a show at bottom of the hill. xiu xiu is playing. I'm so excited. I've been so excited about shows lately, especially happy tuesday at the black keys show (refer to miguel's journal for proof of coolness), and also very homesick at the same time. saturday night after the show Im going back to forestville. sunday is the fort ross 100th aniversary, meaning every fort ross kid from the past 100 years is going to convene. OK- imagine every weird/insane/spaztic fort ross person you've ever met, and imagine hundreds of them TOGETHER. its going to be great. fucking crazy.
And next weekend will be just as insane, with all the same work I have been putting off and all the same people doing entertaining things.
this is less a journal entry and more of me organizing my plans. I just want to say I hope everyone is all right.
PS there are days when you feel like a sexy momma, and it's a good feeling. Then there are those days when you feel saucy, and it's a gross out. On telegraph today, I was shouted at twice from moving vechicles, approached by a bum that wanted me to step on his feet because he had a foot fetish, and then I somehow encouraged sexual comments from strangers by eatting a taco-shaped sweet with whipped cream on it. I just wanted to eat my crepe, damn it!
And next weekend will be just as insane, with all the same work I have been putting off and all the same people doing entertaining things.
this is less a journal entry and more of me organizing my plans. I just want to say I hope everyone is all right.
PS there are days when you feel like a sexy momma, and it's a good feeling. Then there are those days when you feel saucy, and it's a gross out. On telegraph today, I was shouted at twice from moving vechicles, approached by a bum that wanted me to step on his feet because he had a foot fetish, and then I somehow encouraged sexual comments from strangers by eatting a taco-shaped sweet with whipped cream on it. I just wanted to eat my crepe, damn it!