Weekend, you are so true...

I figured I oughta squeeze one out b/4 the weekend got crowded. It'll be bittersweet: A little frass with a little optimism thrown in for smiles.

(ahem)

Full moon fever is in full swing. We're slated for that big bulbous hunk O' cheese to be flexing it's mighty muscles this Monday. I'm a pseudo-believer in the power of the lunar cycles in how it affects human behavior (Working in call center environments for as long as I have, you tend to get the real doozy-douchebag calls around full moons. Not sayin', but you know)
Subsequently, I've adopted a weird habit of "treading lightly in life" during these times: Making extra sure to measure words and actions so as not to have my meaning lost or actions misjudged, in an attempt to combat the ebb and flow of the Moon. Which probably sounds a little malark-ish, but y'know...I need all the help I can get in life.

Which brings us to:

Poor dorajar got into a car accident yesterday. Nothing boo-too serious, but enough to shake her up a little before her 12th night preview. (Congrats, sweetheart. Welcome to the car accident club. And best of luck to night on your opening!) So, send positive thoughts her way. (Irony of Ironies: Girl had JUST called me to tell me to drive safe. Crazy, no?)

There's been a lot of online frassin', as well as frassin' at the workplace. I stay quietly in place. Letting the waves rock around me.

I just had my cable and internet service disconnected. Some more collateral damage of recent tragic events. So, now I'm needing to pay $280 just to get back online. It kills me, b/c I know the roomie is jonesin' to get his service set back up...and it kills me, 'cause I'm trying to figure out if I should have a bake sale to cover all of these "little debts" that pop up over the next several months. It makes my tummy knot up.

I frassed my hamstring. I don't know if it was class the other night, but from my ass to my heel, it feels like white ice. Meaning I don't know if class on Saturday is going to be an option. I'd normally pop a couple NSAID's and push through it, but this new guy just really seems to be telling my body: Not this time. Seriously. Can't even jog. I'm ticked. And fidgety.

No one sells long underpants right now. After discarding the quitters a few weeks ago, I'm down to 2 pairs of thermal skivvies for my outdoor jogs. And February is fixing to be mighty cold for a few weeks. Cold-Balls.


On the flip side:

-2 auditions lined up this weekend. Cross your digits.
-Meeting Ry-Gonn for trivia. The promise of free food and booze will help me overcome my lackadaisical loathing of bar trivia.
-I might get to go to class on Saturday. Might.
-I've time to do projects around the house. Finally can start making some more real headway before Portana's visit.
-12th Night cast party on Sats. Tryptophan induced frenzy abounds. Thanks for the invite, co-hosters.
-A delightful Bee-Kay-Eff-Ess-Tee on Sunday w/Dora, Melinite, and her hub-hub. I love breakfast. Ask me sometime about the future reading romps I plan on having at Twin City coffee shoppes.
-Finally I might get a chance to see Orley after not having seen her in ages.

Uff to the Da.

Safe weekend folks. See y'all on Moon-day. Or tomorrow, if I'm at work and making a face like this ("Uhhhghhhghhhgh")


"Beware the moon, Alex..."
"An American Werewolf in London". Great fucking movie, btw.