Mmmmm, marshmallow fluff...

It Hurts to Be This Sexy

2004-04-25 | 10:11 p.m.
Like the Twister in The Wizard of Oz

The whirlwind weekend of doom and blessings. Drag Crush and I didn't get on the road for Amherst until three in the afternoon, at which point we promptly ran into traffic that kept us in Westchester for a full hour. Then we got to the middle of Connecticut (roughly) and were beaten down by a foul odor. Coming from my car. Correction: Coming from my battery.
Sulphurous smoke? It's a bad thing.
We found an auto store, got everything checked out, and discovered that the battery needed water. I was to keep an eye on the water (and smoke/stench) level for a while, and pretty much decided a new battery was probably in order, at least after I got back here.
We finally made it to the college for the show, and found out that we had a lot more time than we'd originally thought because everything was starting later in the evening. Unfortunately, when things finally got started we were met with the surliest crowd of teenagers ever, all of them drunk and only five of them caring to pay any attention. The problem is that we were performing in their cafeteria, in the middle of their big drag dance. Just like at the SLC, these kids take their drinking and dancing very seriously, and do not like to have their alcohol poisoning interrupted by people they don't know lipsyncing to songs of the 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s in cleverly interpretive ways.
I left with Drag Crush and a Boston-area friend of his around midnight, and we didn't get to Boston until three in the morning. Driving all day? Unpleasant, generally speaking. But Drag Crush made it bearable (more so), by gum.
So yeah, I slept over at Drag Crush's house, and we shared a bed. There was a lot of giggling and talking and general goodness, but nothing like cuddling at all. I was a little too sleepy to be sad about it, really. I talked with %%diary-bevin%%, Haywood, and Nerve Girl last night about my Drag Crush situation, and they helped me develop an action plan involving the Great Big, a few drinks, and/or a lighthearted conversation. We shall see how everything goes down.
I drove back on Saturday after lunching with a Programmite (who will soon be California bound, that lucky chicklet) and her Motorcycle Girlfriend. It was uber-pleasant, indeed.
I stopped at Dinosaur State Park on the way back to get a picture for a super secret gift. It's not as super secret now, but I think that's ok. I hope it works. (tee hee hee, says the crafty gypsy in the corner).
After getting back, I worked on thesis until the computer ate my face with its little clicks (about half an hour, the fucking rat bastard) and then went to my car for Bitch and Animal. Alas, the car would not start, not at all. I got a jump and made it to a beautiful show with Skirt Girl and Portland, where I also played with Bevin and Haywood and Nerve Girl. As usual, Bitch and Animal were beautiful and made my soul sparkle. I'm really excited for Bitch's solo album, because I think I need an entire compilation of sad and beautiful songs about love, fucking/lust/sex, and sundry weepings. So good.
I got back home with Erotica Girl and went to sleep. Waking up meant getting the car jumped again, which would have been fine except for the fact that after the jump, the car actually squirted wiper fluid every time I pressed the gas. In case you were wondering, that means the little car is a bit undrivable at the moment. Tra la. Erotica Girl and I walked to school, where I ended up practicing for the Great Big in one of the giant dance studios at the SL. Hotness, for sure.
Tonight I stay with Poly Girl on campus, because I shall be here ridiculously late doing work and will not not not want to walk home. Tomorrow I call the mechanic to find out about a) the cost of towing and b) what. the. fuck. makes a car spray wiper fluid when you press the gas. Bizarro.
My weekend is a wonderland, as usual. When I finish with all of this, I plan on sleeping for twenty years or twenty hours, whichever comes first.
**Buzzy Twirl**

The weather that ROARED - 2005-03-01
Enabler's Rag - 2005-02-15
Where in the world? - 2005-01-14
Where have all the rude boys gone? - 2005-01-04
quickly - 2004-11-21

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It Hurts to Be This Sexy
	2004-04-25 \| 10:11 p.m. Like the Twister in The Wizard of Oz
	The whirlwind weekend of doom and blessings. Drag Crush and I didn't get on the road for Amherst until three in the afternoon, at which point we promptly ran into traffic that kept us in Westchester for a full hour. Then we got to the middle of Connecticut (roughly) and were beaten down by a foul odor. Coming from my car. Correction: Coming from my battery. Sulphurous smoke? It's a bad thing. We found an auto store, got everything checked out, and discovered that the battery needed water. I was to keep an eye on the water (and smoke/stench) level for a while, and pretty much decided a new battery was probably in order, at least after I got back here. We finally made it to the college for the show, and found out that we had a lot more time than we'd originally thought because everything was starting later in the evening. Unfortunately, when things finally got started we were met with the surliest crowd of teenagers ever, all of them drunk and only five of them caring to pay any attention. The problem is that we were performing in their cafeteria, in the middle of their big drag dance. Just like at the SLC, these kids take their drinking and dancing very seriously, and do not like to have their alcohol poisoning interrupted by people they don't know lipsyncing to songs of the 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s in cleverly interpretive ways. I left with Drag Crush and a Boston-area friend of his around midnight, and we didn't get to Boston until three in the morning. Driving all day? Unpleasant, generally speaking. But Drag Crush made it bearable (more so), by gum. So yeah, I slept over at Drag Crush's house, and we shared a bed. There was a lot of giggling and talking and general goodness, but nothing like cuddling at all. I was a little too sleepy to be sad about it, really. I talked with %%diary-bevin%%, Haywood, and Nerve Girl last night about my Drag Crush situation, and they helped me develop an action plan involving the Great Big, a few drinks, and/or a lighthearted conversation. We shall see how everything goes down. I drove back on Saturday after lunching with a Programmite (who will soon be California bound, that lucky chicklet) and her Motorcycle Girlfriend. It was uber-pleasant, indeed. I stopped at Dinosaur State Park on the way back to get a picture for a super secret gift. It's not as super secret now, but I think that's ok. I hope it works. (tee hee hee, says the crafty gypsy in the corner). After getting back, I worked on thesis until the computer ate my face with its little clicks (about half an hour, the fucking rat bastard) and then went to my car for Bitch and Animal. Alas, the car would not start, not at all. I got a jump and made it to a beautiful show with Skirt Girl and Portland, where I also played with Bevin and Haywood and Nerve Girl. As usual, Bitch and Animal were beautiful and made my soul sparkle. I'm really excited for Bitch's solo album, because I think I need an entire compilation of sad and beautiful songs about love, fucking/lust/sex, and sundry weepings. So good. I got back home with Erotica Girl and went to sleep. Waking up meant getting the car jumped again, which would have been fine except for the fact that after the jump, the car actually squirted wiper fluid every time I pressed the gas. In case you were wondering, that means the little car is a bit undrivable at the moment. Tra la. Erotica Girl and I walked to school, where I ended up practicing for the Great Big in one of the giant dance studios at the SL. Hotness, for sure. Tonight I stay with Poly Girl on campus, because I shall be here ridiculously late doing work and will not not not want to walk home. Tomorrow I call the mechanic to find out about a) the cost of towing and b) what. the. fuck. makes a car spray wiper fluid when you press the gas. Bizarro. My weekend is a wonderland, as usual. When I finish with all of this, I plan on sleeping for twenty years or twenty hours, whichever comes first. Buzzy Twirl The weather that ROARED - 2005-03-01 Enabler's Rag - 2005-02-15 Where in the world? - 2005-01-14 Where have all the rude boys gone? - 2005-01-04 quickly - 2004-11-21 <-- - -->	Last Next Newest Older Rings Pictures Links Profile Guestbook Email me Notes Diaryland Hate is Great