Sunday, November 13, 2005

I shall always be a flower girl to Professor Higgins

"But don't worry... by tomorrow or the day after, I'll be bristling with indignation over something or other."

Slushpile, November 11th, 2005

You know what's great about self-fulfilling prophecies? Fuck all.

I actually had an okay weekend until Saturday night when I put my back out. I decided to lift a massive, 7 foot long, kagillion pound mirror by myself. I wanted to attach it to my chest of drawers and I did at least accomplish that. I now have an unimaginable expanse of mirror that cruelly reflects my every move. It's right in front of my bed, so it should be sexy. But in reality, me crawling out of bed with a blown out lower back isn't as hot as it sounds. Mind you, the smudged mascara and t-shirt-tucked-into-underwear look I was sporting this morning certainly caught my eye. Only because I wasn't smart enough to avert my gaze first.

I've been gobbling Robaxacets all day. My back isn't impressed - these soft drugs are barely making a dent. This sucks for a myriad of reasons - one of them being that I wanted to check out "The Shout Out Louds" tonight at Richards on Richards. And now I can't. And that's not fair because I never go anywhere. I never want to go anywhere and as soon as I decide to venture out, you see what happens.

I wish I had stuck with yoga. I wish I hadn't lifted that mirror. I wish I had harder drugs. And while we're throwing wishes out there...I wish I were super hard-bodied and rich.

That is all.


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