Payback's a bitch.
http://www.toledoblade.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20050816/NEWS24/50816002
Bernie Noe made my family's life a living hell for more than a year. Seeing her face splashed across the front page of the newspaper (and on a consistent basis) appeals greatly to my vindictive spirit and I wish nothing more than to see her ass rot in state prison.
Some day I'll grow up.
So, friends, I've been away for some time. It's summer, of course, and thus the more time spent out of the house (or otherwise occupied while within it) the better -- in theory. It doesn't always work out that way.
Thursday night I had the best dinner I've had since moving to Tampa and not just because the food was fabulous. It was just a really nice evening in general -- and that's probably an understatement -- but I won't go into details.
My director went berserk Friday night. In the progression of a four-hour rehearsal, she managed to change two of our major dances because she "saw something in a dream." Of course, the music was different in her dream, so we had to change that, too; and throughout the rehearsal she screamed and screamed because we "weren't doing it right! LISTEN TO ME!" Of course, when we tried, her direction was vague and always coupled with "...I think that's how I saw it." Batshiat crazy, the woman is.
In any case, I desperately needed a drink after rehearsal, and knew precisely what I wanted; to find Les and order two bottles of Bud Select, a shot of Maker's Mark, and a pint glass into which the previous would be poured. I couldn't stay long; I had to be in Brandon (not even Brandon, more like BFE Brandon) to pick this girl up at seven so we could be in Winter Park by nine.
Of course, I arrived at the Hangout and the place was packed to the proverbial gills and I said "screw it" and drove home.
Part two coming soon. The house is a wreck, and I want to clean it up before Jenn gets home.
http://www.toledoblade.com/apps/pbcs.dl
Bernie Noe made my family's life a living hell for more than a year. Seeing her face splashed across the front page of the newspaper (and on a consistent basis) appeals greatly to my vindictive spirit and I wish nothing more than to see her ass rot in state prison.
Some day I'll grow up.
So, friends, I've been away for some time. It's summer, of course, and thus the more time spent out of the house (or otherwise occupied while within it) the better -- in theory. It doesn't always work out that way.
Thursday night I had the best dinner I've had since moving to Tampa and not just because the food was fabulous. It was just a really nice evening in general -- and that's probably an understatement -- but I won't go into details.
My director went berserk Friday night. In the progression of a four-hour rehearsal, she managed to change two of our major dances because she "saw something in a dream." Of course, the music was different in her dream, so we had to change that, too; and throughout the rehearsal she screamed and screamed because we "weren't doing it right! LISTEN TO ME!" Of course, when we tried, her direction was vague and always coupled with "...I think that's how I saw it." Batshiat crazy, the woman is.
In any case, I desperately needed a drink after rehearsal, and knew precisely what I wanted; to find Les and order two bottles of Bud Select, a shot of Maker's Mark, and a pint glass into which the previous would be poured. I couldn't stay long; I had to be in Brandon (not even Brandon, more like BFE Brandon) to pick this girl up at seven so we could be in Winter Park by nine.
Of course, I arrived at the Hangout and the place was packed to the proverbial gills and I said "screw it" and drove home.
Part two coming soon. The house is a wreck, and I want to clean it up before Jenn gets home.
Current Mood: 
determined
determined
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