Spazzing and Spawning

Spliff is buying our tickets right now for the Ben/Damian show.

My stomach is in knots. I blame Spliff for this. I used to be able to buy tickets to a concert and then just go on about my day. But she has (and I think I have mentioned this before) this massive case of concert anxiety which seeps out of her and into me any time a good show comes to town. She spazzes about everything working so that the tickets can be paid for, then that they can be acquired, then that we get good seats, then that we are not late, then that we are not struck by bolts of lightening on our way inside…and all of this? Yeah, I get it all right along with her. Evidently, no one freaks out alone in my presence.

Normally, I spaz about really important things like my bank account and not being able to pay my rent. Or like, not being home in time to watch Grey’s Anatomy. But now…I got a new disease…and right now, I know that Spliff is online, sweating her ass off, and trying to buy tickets…and I am sp excited, I could vomit. (I know that doesn’t SOUND all that great…but…Vomit = Super Effing Excited. Promise.)

In other news, my dad will be here tomorrow from Guam. I haven’t seen him in three years and surprisingly, don’t really care that he is coming. I got excited for about a minute and a half, but that faded when I realized that I will be stuck doing the bulk of the entertaining of the dad because the Fish Head lives three hours away. Dammit. I think that I have explained before how much (although, I love them) I don’t really like hanging out with my family. They drive me nuts. Fish Head being the exception to the rule.

Also, it has been decided, since I keep acquiring them, that an entire wall of my apartment should be covered with televisions. I am well on my way. Seriously. (Pictures to follow.) And to think this all started with a boy who may or may not be named Bobby and a couple bottles of wine which became known as the Great TV Heist of 2005. And now, just like my tortoise shell sunglasses, the TVs are spawning.

Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: “Chinacat Sunflower” – The Grateful Dead


spliffany said...

yeah, and now since our seats are general admission, i have 5 months to stress about getting there before anyone so as to stake out a spot in the front. and not drinking too many beers before so as to avoid having to pee AT ALL. and getting accurate driving directions to hotlanta so there is no risk of getting lost. AH!

spaceface said...

Which means that I too have five months to stress about these things...Now doesn't that sound like fun?@

soopadoopachaloopa said...

look at the two of you, it's to that level of cute where i might have to gouge my eyes out just to balance the whole thing out.