Counting down the hours 'til it goes.

I just slept for something bizarre like thirteen hours. I have no idea how this happened. I received numerous invites to do this or that last night, but was in a cranky mood so I pretty much just ended blowing everyone off. I was knitting for awhile, reading for awhile, then Christy put on the Princess Bride (I hate this movie on principle alone, much like my hatred of LOTR) and I was out (after having caught the requisit SVU for the night). This was approximately nine thirty. I have no idea how I even fell asleep, I didn't even realize I was tired at the time, just mostly kinda cranky and mopey.

I woke up with TWELVE missed calls and three new voice mails. I have not perused any of these nor listened to my voice mails. I am mildly popular. I think I must've accidentally turned my phone on silent last night, otherwise I might have considered picking it up. No guarantees. Dammit people, how many times must I tell you, I refuse to check voice mail. I'm a little weird about voice mail, mainly because it's pretty much my parents exclusively leaving me messages and they never have anything to say anyway.

I got out of jury duty accidentally. They saw I was a college student and ditched me. I am somewhat disappointed. Nine dollars a day is more than I'm making now, and you can never get enough seedy hotels.

Ugh, I hate this wake up feeling where your eyes are all filled with gunk and water. It's no good. Christy is gone to work all day today. I seriously considered having a talk with her RE: her lameass boyfriend last night, but I didn't. I instead had a dream that I did. The dream also had Emily and I as personal secretaries to Curt Weldon, but instead of being an old fat man Curt Weldon was super hot. It was still a mediocre dream; mine always contain some part where I am trying to do something and I could not. This time I was trying to dress myself and either I could not take my clothes off or get them back on again. I was dressing myself with things I don't remember owning.

Corrine, Evie and I ended up at the Black Cat again on Thursday for the second Ted Leo show. Important notes: I'm black (check Buzznet, black not purple!), I parallel parked ALL BY MY SELF, three girls wandering around in the near-ghetto attract crazy homeless people. Personally, I felt awesome because I had already been there and knew my way around. Since it was Thursday there were about twice as many people there.

This show, however, really solidified my love for (I'll repeat) Ted Leo and the Pharmacists. They are described as 'power pop' by some lame article I read online. I describe them as fucking awesome. I even BOUGHT THEIR CD (this is a pretty big deal for me). Here are some interesting aesthetic notes. Number one: Ted Leo is a babe. Exhibit one:

Aesthetic note number two: their drummer appears to be the homeless guy who was Happy Gilmore's caddy.

I need to return some of these picture messages. The day is almost gone and so am I.