Going to Get You, Little Fishy

Here is my fish taco.

It is in my lap at work.  He looks great with my pink dress.  I felt Senor Senior Del Mar would be more safe at work, out of the kittens little clutches.  Wikus said that when he says my fish taco, he starts singing, "I'm going to get you, little fishy," from Red Dwarf.  Cat sings it.  Obviously.

This is how far I have gotten on my spider lily:

That's five days of work.  Not consecutive days.  I am doing all this by hand.  No ringsaw.  It is exhausting work.  Tonight I think I gave myself a sandblasting facial while grinding the glass for the pollen bits.  I have three weeks left to finish this.  I'm trying to feel optimistic, but my sinuses are conspiring against me.  Jackasses.
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The Vaselines were awesome.  Granted, my expectations were a bit low going in to it.  One album two decades ago.  Never really toured.  Just how could they be that good?  After suffering through three hours of waiting for the damn opening bands to quit the crap, we were treated to something really nice.  Their voices sounded great, and their new songs (yes, a new album was released in September) were fun and catchy.  I highly recommend the show if they come through your town. 

While waiting in near agony (Emo's has these hard, wooden bleachers that I'm pretty sure were specifically designed to make people NOT want to sit down, or at least drink themselves in to a stupor so they won't notice how much their asses hurt), I noticed that the majority of the women in the crowd were dressed in the most fucked-up, ugly-ass outfits.  From the looks of it, they all went to various thrift stores with the instructions to buy three things.  Then they all got together and played an elaborate game of pass the items around--two to the left with one to the right, then one to the left and two to the right, one twice to the right and two three times to the left.  Time is called and everyone has to don what she is holding.  A kind of musical chairs for crappy floral materials.  Embarrassing and non-flattering.  They all seemed so happy, though. 

Way back in the way back when, when I was probably 13 or so, I decided that I would look really awesome in a sweater dress.  It was red and black striped, wide stripes.  I work it with black pantyhose (I was sheltered and did not have access to tights) and some heinous Payless black flats.

I felt awesome.  I just knew I looked awesome. 

Looking back, I was really fucking wrong.