Last night saw me attempting to repair the heel on my Doc Martens by myself. I'm cheap, I suddenly got the urge to wear them when we did the show, and it seemed logical that I could repair them myself. I mean, all they needed were some new nails driven into the heel to re-attach (sp?) it to the rest of the shoe. I'd even figured out how to pull the inner sole out so that I didn't have to drive the nails through that, too.
Didn't work. There's a layer in those boots that no amount of hammering will break through. I'm left with no choice but to bring them to the cobbler's.
We went to Commander Salamander's on Sunday to drop off flyers for the show -- I found this gorgeous skirt that had a belt made out of the same stuff as that elastic tubing you wrap around your arm to make your veins pop up. The belt had fake syringes all along it....a fashion statement at it's best. Unfortunately, I could see immediately that it would look lousy on me and it was too expensive. My dreams of being cool are crushed yet again.
I've been very sick the past few days, starting with the morning after I went online with my oft-mentioned rum. I think it was a chest cold. I'm still coughing, but taking two days off of work made me well enough that I could handle working.
There was a big ugly fight that I'm not going to discuss, and another brought on by the fact that both Dirk and I are sick and niether of us are very nice sick people.
Nikki is probably going to be singing at our show, because he's gotten so good so fast. Anyway, good enough not to embarass himself.
Dirk took off work yesterday with me, so we spent the whole day in bed and/or cooking for each other. Dirk drove over to my house to surprise me, scaring the shit out of me while I was watching Cow & Chicken.
Finally, in the world of news that shouldn't surprise anyone, Dirk's mom [was] still carrying a photograph of Krisco in her wallet. A very recent one, in fact (I saw it because she was showing Dirk & Nikki the photographs there). My friend Amy summed it up well in one word: FREAK. Dirk took it upon himself to remove the photograph from his mother's wallet and destroy it. The kindest thing that Krisco had written on the back of it was, "To Dirk's Mom, Thanks for being there for me when Dirk wasn't." It apparently got much more insulting after that.
FREAK. Let's not even delve into the realms of inappropriate that we've uncovered here. I thought it was really sad.
As a side note, I also fell down and skinned my knee. In the process of falling, I ripped a hole in the knee of my only good (read: non-holey) pair of jeans. I'm trying to find a creative way to patch them.
I'm still kind of drugged-out and woozy, so I'm sure you'll forgive me if this entry only makes sense to me.
