:: Searching for Puck... ::

:: Saturday, June 07, 2003 ::

I guess my body's okay.

In retrospect, it was mostly panic messing me up. My car is actually not too damaged...it's mostly the front right tire and the front right signal lights. The side and front panels are actually okay....I posted some pics...

www.homestead.com/foxfyresden/files/poorcar1.jpg - What's actually wrong.

www.homestead.com/foxfyresden/files/poorcar2.jpg - My poor, poor rim. ::sighs::

www.homestead.com/foxfyresden/files/image21.jpg - Ditto to my poor signal lights. If you look close, you can see the "Karmically-speaking fuck me in the ass" laser beam to the right.

www.homestead.com/foxfyresden/files/image22.jpg - if you look closely, you can see where my license plate was bent under earlier in the day. I hit the retaining wall, and three Mexican guys standing nearby leaped into action....two threw themselves under my car and bent my license plate back and wiped off the telltale dirt, and the other rebuilt the wall. They're like *gnomes*, dude. They just...FIXED everything. It's insane. I've never met harder working people. I'm going to punch anyone that says they're taking our jobs.

So I went to the club, and the only highlights of the evening were seeing Rick, my Co-president for the English club - I knew he was going and he's really awesome to hang out with - he became my temporary boyfriend to chase off someone that unsettles me that was hitting on me...It was more of me grabbing his arm and he being too drunkmellow to protest, but still...he didn't blow cover, so props for that. Loofah, Savannah, and Scott were there too...(Henry's housemates)..so that was good, to see them. The bondage 'dungeon' downstairs was lame at best, and peopled by so many creepy old guys that I kind of hid the fact I was toting a flogger around, lest they get ideas. Blegh.

Also, I saw Mr. would-be Puck there. The guy with the panflute. I had written two emails, no response. I ran into him at the club, and he said he was sorry, there had been a problem with the computer. I asked him what kind of problem...

...his girlfriend had hacked his email account.

I mean, HELLO? What the fuck are you doing with a personals site if you have a girlfriend? I asked him and he's like...you know..for whatever. And it wasn't even a *promising* 'whatever'. So fuck that. I don't covet other people's property, anyway.

The music/crowd was so lame that Ris and I bolted early for the sanctuary of a diner full of after-prom normals. My only happiness was in bitching about men with her, mozz sticks, and the ridiculously (and I mean RIDICULOUSLY) short schoolgirl skirt I was wearing. Got a few turned heads, but not a single number. Fuck em.


~Fox
:: Fox 6/07/2003 01:10:00 PM [Say what?] ::
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