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May. 28th, 2003 09:23 pmI can only take Fame in very small doses, due to my high embarrassment squick, so I'll leave Lucy and Lori to watch it and attempt to sum up my day.
I think the only thing that saved it was my dance class, 'cause it started out on a suck-ass note: since my coworker was out, I didn't even get to sit down at my desk until I'd been there for forty-five minutes. Add in a flurry of network requests to a move, and I was racing around until about 3. And that's with a trip home at lunch to change, because the seat of my pants had given way mid-crouch. (Nearly mid-crotch, though fortunately my shirt covered it. No quick mid-dance floor scurries for the sweater.)
Really, what is it with me and pants? Me and my ass, we need to have a talk.
Me: Yo! Ass!
My Ass: What?
Me: Look at me when I'm talking to you!
My Ass: Hey! Lookit that fine ass in the mirror. Hey baby!
The Ass in the Mirror: What is it with you and the pants, man? I like those pants.
My Ass: Dude. It's summer - shorts time!
Me: Not at work - you know that!
My Ass: You ever heard about freeing your ass, and your mind will...
My Mind: Don't even get me involved. This is a body issue.
My Ass: How 'bout a skirt? Maybe a sundress? We like those.
Me: Not at work.
My Ass: Bitch. You just wait. You ain't seen nothin' yet. I'll get you, my pretty, and your little pants, too!
So. Crap day. Good dance class though - there were only six of us, and there are usually sixteen or so in the class. It's getting towards quarter-end, and there's only one class left, so I guess people are feeling the pressure of finals. It was nice not needing to worry about bumping into three other people while doing traveling steps.
I still haven't had a chance to check my email, and it's getting late enough I don't think I'll get to it tonight, past the initial scan/delete for spam. Somedays I think I should just go nomail on WIKTT, since I don't seem to get a chance to participate in the discussions, and it's the main source of the Incredible Exploding Inbox.
I need a todo list: Re-evaluate worm box, calculate and post XP from Monday and the game before, mow the lawn, hit the bank (Friday), buy wet cat food, locate the FBO at Boeing Field.
I hit Target last night for toilet paper and blonde-in-a-bottle, and I've just got to take the Pimpmobile out driving one day. Just a sunny day, me, the car and the road. It's a proper cruising car, it is.
Now, if only I had a hot boy or two to go parking with...
I think the only thing that saved it was my dance class, 'cause it started out on a suck-ass note: since my coworker was out, I didn't even get to sit down at my desk until I'd been there for forty-five minutes. Add in a flurry of network requests to a move, and I was racing around until about 3. And that's with a trip home at lunch to change, because the seat of my pants had given way mid-crouch. (Nearly mid-crotch, though fortunately my shirt covered it. No quick mid-dance floor scurries for the sweater.)
Really, what is it with me and pants? Me and my ass, we need to have a talk.
Me: Yo! Ass!
My Ass: What?
Me: Look at me when I'm talking to you!
My Ass: Hey! Lookit that fine ass in the mirror. Hey baby!
The Ass in the Mirror: What is it with you and the pants, man? I like those pants.
My Ass: Dude. It's summer - shorts time!
Me: Not at work - you know that!
My Ass: You ever heard about freeing your ass, and your mind will...
My Mind: Don't even get me involved. This is a body issue.
My Ass: How 'bout a skirt? Maybe a sundress? We like those.
Me: Not at work.
My Ass: Bitch. You just wait. You ain't seen nothin' yet. I'll get you, my pretty, and your little pants, too!
So. Crap day. Good dance class though - there were only six of us, and there are usually sixteen or so in the class. It's getting towards quarter-end, and there's only one class left, so I guess people are feeling the pressure of finals. It was nice not needing to worry about bumping into three other people while doing traveling steps.
I still haven't had a chance to check my email, and it's getting late enough I don't think I'll get to it tonight, past the initial scan/delete for spam. Somedays I think I should just go nomail on WIKTT, since I don't seem to get a chance to participate in the discussions, and it's the main source of the Incredible Exploding Inbox.
I need a todo list: Re-evaluate worm box, calculate and post XP from Monday and the game before, mow the lawn, hit the bank (Friday), buy wet cat food, locate the FBO at Boeing Field.
I hit Target last night for toilet paper and blonde-in-a-bottle, and I've just got to take the Pimpmobile out driving one day. Just a sunny day, me, the car and the road. It's a proper cruising car, it is.
Now, if only I had a hot boy or two to go parking with...
