I was hoping to post my quasi-review of last night’s show, but that will have to wait. We have over $750,000 in Simon & Garfunkel tickets to bank today, plus the show tonight, and I’m too groggy to split my attention right now.

Looks like Ted and I have the flu after all.

*grumble*

On a lighter note, my shopping streak continues: I just won a copy of Zalewski’s essay on the 0=0 and the updated Dictionary of Imaginary Places on eBay.

While I wait for the coffee to percolate in my bloodstream, I’ll share this morning’s randomness:

:: silly ol’ catholics ::

:: even weirder ::

:: bad cat ::

:: horny hungarians ::

The funny thing is… my housekeepers are Hungarian, and they’ve been swingers for decades. Maybe there’s some truth to statistical information after all.

– – –

:: corpse dumping ::

I find this whole thing extremely offensive. I’m not in the mood to wax philisophical about it, suffice to say that I have an enormous amount of respect for the dead, and sympathy for people in mourning. This is shit. I hope they fry.

I never get enough sleep.

I need to go home and change before the concert tonight. I couldn’t care less about the opening bands, so maybe I’ll take a long, semi-comatose-style nap before I go. Hell knows I need it: I look like crap, and my mirror-licking narcissism just can’t handle looking this shitty at a show.

Besides, I don’t want to show up wearing this stanky New York Dolls tee and the vinyl mariachi pants that I’ve been sweating in all day. Gross.

Hopefully I’m not coming down with something. I’ve got four doubles this week, the site update to finish (*gurgle*) and twenty-something orders to fill.

.:-grr-:.

As an almost-positive side note, it seems my email is as close to normal as it’s been in months. It’s only taking 12 hours for something to come down to me (as far as I can tell) and the majority of my outgoing mail is… going out (I think).

Now I just have to find the energy and patience to resend everything that’s been lost in transit these past few weeks. I think I need to take a day off of work just to take care of this.

Today started off poorly. I have a stitch in my side that is bugging the hell out of me, I slept like shit, and all the chocolate muffins in the world weren’t improving my ill temper… mostly because the premiere of “the Rundown” is taking place here at the Amphitheatre tonight, and while most people might find that exciting, premieres always get on my fucking nerves, mostly because it means that I lose my parking space for the day.

I hate that.

Plus, I’m wearing vinyl today. So stupid. I’m wearing vinyl pants on a 88 degree post-summer day.

I’m all persnickety as it is, and then I experience a Monday Morning Deluge of Stupid Phone Calls from patrons… which is more than I was equipped to handle on zero coffee.

So, I’m tired, grouchy, sticky and experiencing just enough discomfort to really piss me off, when I get an email from one of my customers:

Elizabeth,
You have out done yourself, I bought two of your new fragrances, Black lotus & Kitsune – Tsuki. They are divine, in fact I’ve almost emptied them. I can’t wait to try the new perfumes you have done for the Equinox.

Sincerely,
Robynn L.

Talk about flattery soothing the savage beast. Thank you, Robynn. =)

To further spunk up my day, I receive a huge occult formula order from a group of record company execs out here in L.A. I am pleased.

It’s so nice to feel needed. 😉

:|: lulu the kangaroo :|:

Tonight was Robert’s birthday. I made reservations for 8.00 at Cha Cha Cha for 10 of us, but – of course – many more showed up. The service was crap and the sangria made my buttcheeks clench, but the food was killer – the paella was amazing, as was the mango-rum cheesecake – and you just can’t beat the Caribbean Santeria motif for dinnertime ambiance. All in all, it was a very nice evening, and it seemed Robert had a good time, which is all that matters.

It’s hard to believe we’ve known each other for fifteen years.

A million hugs and a trillion thank-you’s to my favorite Southern Belle, redwitche, for the killer Bombs Over Baghdad jacket, the Heavy Red dress shirt and choker, and the absolutely adorable ribbon’d up khakis. I love you so much! – and I’m so thrilled. =D

You made me extraSuperHappy!

Ted is asleep on the floor of my office.

Told’ja it was dull in here today.

Therefore, I am going to spout out a random Fishy stream of consciousness.

– – –

I have found a presidential candidate that I feel I can support in good conscience.

:: Wes Clark ::

– – –

what’s your inner flower?
[c] sugardew

Neat. I like hibiscus tea.

– – –

I’m sure there’s something I need to do right now, but I can’t imagine what it is. I’ve been in the office since 10am, but I haven’t done one single thing.

Ted and I went shopping on our lunch. He bought me a new pair of pin-striped DogPile bondage pants, a pair of rhinestone cat-eye sunglasses and a New York Dolls babydoll. Me luvs him. =)

As pleasant as lunch was, I can’t help but stare at the clock and will today to be over with. I won’t be home from work tonight until about 10-10.30pm, which means another day will slither by without me having filled any Lab orders, working on the site update, or getting any writing done.

Believe me, when I get home from a shift like this, I’m lucky if I can get my shoes off before I pass out.

I am dreading tonight’s show: Chicago (gag), night two. It’s always shit-stupid when a show runs multiple nights. I can count on at least 75 morons showing up with tickets for the wrong evening. Last night’s crowd was as rude, stupid and sh’ugly as I predicted it would be, and tonight will be worse.

5 more weeks.

5 more long and buttcheekclenchinglystupid weeks, and I am back to the loquacious, semi-sane person I am for four months out of every year. I can’t fucking wait. As much as I like getting a paycheck, I don’t seem to be doing anything else other than working and working, then working, and then going home and working. I’m a crabby bitch and a complete bore, and I don’t seem to talk about / think about anything other than the Lab and these theatres.

Meh.

– – –

Does anyone know a way to get rid of those patchy white bits that appear on rubber when it’s been exposed to sunlight? Big fuckup that I am, I think I’ve ruined my rubber cheongsam, two rubber catsuits, a buttload of leggings and rubber bras, my rubber nurse uniform, a Murray & Vern dress, two corsets and a House of Harlot buckle dress… all in one fell swoop.

Yay for carelessness. I suck.

– – –

Well, that was depressing. I think I’ll go back in the kitchen and watch my Bulldogs lose to LSU: that should ensure that I walk into the box office in a thoroughly foul mood.

It’s an ugly, paranoid, shitty little world we live in. When do we get our gov’t sanctioned tattoos?

::} two minutes hate {::

How do I go about seeking asylum in Canada? Perhaps a Canadian citizenship? I swore to myself that I’d leave the US if Bush was elected, and here I am… still kicking dirt in California.