Last night I dreamed that I rocked some serious Betty Page bangs. Which is completely laughable on so many levels. I blamed the twins on the 3rd season of Skins for putting the idea in my head. The other night I dreamed that I made the humiliating mistake of answering the phone at work by saying, "I love you," instead of my normal business-like greeting (which, I get made fun on nonstop for having a professional phone greeting instead of the terse, "This is Grumples."). If I was a braver person, I would dare myself to spend a whole day answering the phone at work with a statement of love. Not even a "Hello! I love you." Just a "I love you." Statement. Fact. Love.
Yesterday was a bit of a mental-health fail, but with some wonderful support from JM, and half a Klonopin, I managed to make it through the day. Many things culminated at the same time and left me in a state of insane anxiety that made no logical sense. I was practically ready to pass out at one point. That or vomit in my lap and cry in shame. The 3-hour meeting in the afternoon would have been unbearable if CSP wasn't there. Though, he probably thinks I'm a total crazy dingnut, he managed to put up with my insanity (though, I'm probably not giving him enough credit--he may actually understand more than I could possibly know, and I should appreciate that).
Beside the horror of seeing a whole room of adults willingly doing calisthenics as part of some hackneyed idea to motivate us (my butt didn't leave the chair, and I had to punch CSP on the ass for his flagrant excitement of attempting to touch his toes), I did manage to walk away with a Mexican plum tree sampling. How that came to be, I really can't explain, but that's the kind of thing that does motivate me--free trees! Afterward, CSP and I spent a sweaty hour walking through the botanical gardens, which I expected the flowers to be pulverized by the rains we got this week, but were their normal near-death selves from the summer heat. Some margaritas at Chuy's and then I was home before 7pm, my anxiety completely gone, but I was drained. Adrenaline is very hard on the body, especially when there was no reason to be full of it in the first place. I was in bed by 9pm.
Which has left me well-rested for my very exciting evening. Dinner, drinks and Metropolis at the defunct Seaholm Power Plant with Guamaniac. The perfect art-deco place to see an art-deco 1920's movie's idea of the future. I love Metropolis so fucking much. Thank you high-school German teacher for being so fucking awesome. Tonight's performance is being scored by the Golden Hornet Project, which I'm sure will be a fucking great treat. Though, honestly, I will be spending some of the time comparing their performance to the Alloy Orchestra's in Boston. If you are in Boston, and you see Metropolis playing with the Alloy Orchestra doing the music, you must drop whatever you are doing and go see them. I promise, you will not regret my advice.
The Boy neglected to get a comp ticket, and is seeing the dress rehearsal right now as a consolatory prize. Therefore, he is forced to have a night alone. I'm sure it will just be terrible for him with all that free time to watch movies, play video games, muck around in his studio, etc. I'm sure he'll just miss me painfully. Such a cutie.
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