Fight for the White and Blue!OK, yet another half-assed random list entry because damnit it's friggin' hot, my allergies are acting up, and I'm still as giddy, yes, that's right, giddy, after Duke made it into the Final Four after two straight years of chumpin' it at the Sweet Sixteen.
1. Business Card Chick might be the most passive-aggressive person I've ever met. I suggested that she could mail me the business cards when they get in if she felt more comfortable doing that. She writes back she totally understands if I don't want to meet her anymore. Hating the whole "Hey, I don't want to take responsibility so I'll make you feel bad", I reply (in a very humorous oh you just had to be there way) that of course I want to meet her, but that I suggested mailing the cards only because I thought she felt uncomfortable. So we're now back onto meeting, she invited me to her gig that night (which I didn't go to--friggin' tired plus I needed to watch Duke beat Illinois), and now she also thinks I'm "stinkin funny". Sigh. Aren't there any stable arty chicks out there?
2. Wasn't there some light wuss-rock ballad from the eighties or seventies that described the situation in Point 2 in my last entry? Probably something by Journey or Foreigner. Bonus karma points to those who can tell me which song it was. At least I have an idea to incorporate into the novel.
3. OK. So while this whole Set-Up Chick non-situation was evolving, I had a dream involving the infamous Makeup Chick. I was in London on an illicit vacation. I was supposed to be at work, but I was fed up. I decided to travel to London by myself, which is unusual because I hate going on vacation alone. Anyway, I'm at this open drinking fair--like Octoberfest, but, ummmm, British. So I go to the urinals and there's this other American there. He's all "Dude, cool, another American. Let's grab a brewskie." It's nice to be hanging out with another Yank, but then he starts making a fool of himself by trying to speak in a British accent. Kinda Madonna bad British accent. He meanders off back to the urinals. The locals start looking at me in a hostile manner. I say, "That's a Yank in a bad need of an ass-kicking." Then everyone starts laughing. And I start making fun of bad British accents, and the audience is like putty in my hands. I see Makeup Chick. I'm about to say, "Hi, it's really cool seeing you here," but she says before I can open up my mouth, "Hi, my name is Calleigh."