Aug. 18th, 2004

Cha Ching

Aug. 18th, 2004 01:54 am
cursedcassandra: (Default)
It's ironic that Burning Man turns into this orgiastic consumer event. I am broke and yet there is more to buy. To make. To trade. To prepare.

All for an event that thumbs its nose at consumerism.

Twelve more days.

It's taking my last dollar and my last nerve.

I'm working through the rest of this week. I have to schedule in two jobs, fittings, shopping, casual sex, quality time with absent friends, sewing, bike repairs, and babysitting. It's exhausting just to think about it.

I won't be on-line much this week (save for a few stolen moments at work). I hope you will all do horrifically entertaining things in my absence.

If anyone would like Burning Man/Nevada postcards, post your interest here and I'll send you my email address so that we can swap vital info.

Until then, burn baby burn.

Yours,
L
cursedcassandra: (Default)
No matter how single or old I get, scrambled eggs for dinner are ALWAYS a bad idea.

Yuck.

But who doesn't love quick and dirty protein with a grease chaser?

My colon doth protest.

I have an unexpected night off. My casual sex plans went the way of the Star Wars Program...abandoned, only to be resurrected at the interest and instigation of a another old man. Okay, the same old man, but that metaphor was going so well... So, instead of slap and tickle, it's the Fox late night line up and a whole lotta LJ time. I'm back, if only briefly.

The Burning Man preparations are underway, if with a slightly maniacal intensity. I've been the to mall *three* times in the past 24 hours. (That's 3 times more than I've been in the past three months.) First trip to get cute underwear (ruffled cheeky shorts and red and black polkadot/rhinestone boy shorts), fishnets, and faux fur (unsuccessfully). Second trip to return the thigh-high fishnets for fishnet nylons. On that trip, I happened to stumble into Icing and spent all sorts of money on fancy sparkly hair clips. Half the sparkly hair clips slid out of my hair under the stress of one simple hair toss, so they had to be returned for hair clips that could withstand the hair flipping of a native Valley Girl. The third trip could have spawned a fourth, but I decided to stop madness and hid my bankcard. I will never win the Burning Man fashion arms race and any further escalation on my part will interfere with paying September's rent. It's all food and shelter from here on out. *whew*

Eleven more days...

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