I FEEL LIKE POO. Well, more like death, actually. I wish I had cable, because all I want to do is lay on the couch and watch TV. My gag reflex keeps catching and I fully expect to throw up soonish. Death, man. Death. In other news, I bought some pants on Ebay. Loren is dreading it, because it's a pair of those...What are they called? Goucho pants? You know the type. They're knee length and very full, and made of that thin jersey. Yeah, well, this pair is full length, and not as full as is stylish, but I don't care. I wanted a pair of the knee-length ones (summer, y'know), but I don't have any shoes that would be suitable to wear with them, and I don't like shaving my legs or tanning, so covering up is usually a good idea. Anyway, the short pair that was being sold by the same seller was a medium, and I'm DEFINATELY not a medium. I'm also bidding on a floaty brown silk shirt shot with gold (I'd give the link, but someone else might want it! It's MINE), and a silver t-shirt overlaid with black mesh. Tacky, but I love it. The brown shirt is actually really pretty, and that colour looks grand on me. I plan, if I win it, to use it as a Special Occasion shirt where I'm with family. (My mother would heartily approve of it, and I rather like it.) It would be a good Opening Night shirt, too, for the Dressy-But-Casual times. It like it. The black and silver shirt is a guilty but pleasurable impulse buy. Hey! At least it's only, like, $3! So piss off! (And that INCLUDES shipping!) I still feel like throwing up. I really think I will, and I have an 8 hour shift at the theatre tonight. Ugh. I wonder what we'll be doing. Yesterday I vacuumed (fastest I've ever done it!), and we reset the house hang after it was messed around by the Hippy Didgereedoo Player and Fame! The Musical. Not at the same time, mind you. I cleaned up after the Hippy Didgereedoo Player, and found caps from liquir bottles and cigarette and roach butts in the audience. BAD PEOPLE. BAD HIPPIES. I even found a doobie, but I didn't keep it. Admittedly I thought about it for a second, but then I remembered someone I knew who would mix coke in with his joints, and I promptly threw it out. I like weed, but I'm not stupid, and I don't like taking risks. You're not supposed to bring food or drink into the theatre, much less SMOKE in the theatre. Bad, bad hippies. Spankings all around. Anyway, I'm gonna make some tea or something, because I feel like hell. . Rosemart the Destroyer.
Before&After
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