Kitty Power

You're Good As Gold

I'm home sick and I've been having silly out there dreams. In one, I went to London and married Dizzee Rascal and became the Martina to his Tricky. In another, Tantrum and I collaborated on an electro song and it was a hit. And then I bought a crazy glass walled apartment and threw parties and slinked (yes, slinked) around NYC with my sunglasses at night indoors before jet-setting around the world. I guess I just dreamed I was G. Rizo. I have no idea what her apartment looks like, but she's the bomb and I wouldn't call her out for briging aviators inside. She chatted with me at her party when I was an anti-social retard and she's insanely cool. Cheers to her.

Also a heartfelt congrats out to Steven and Rachel. I didn't even have my typical "eww...engaged" reaction, so good for them.

Doing up the blast from the past thing last week was Grandmastah H, back again from London. I finally dragged over to him that air matress I borrowed almost a year ago that was my bed for the first month and a half here. And in return, I got smoked out and dinner and drinks. Good fucking deal. He dragged me out unwillingly Friday night with the promise of more drinks and I hung with him and his friends, partaking in the bottle popping. He's my favorite Mr. Moneybags.

A reminder I could've done without was the boy sending me an email out of the blue. It's never a good sign when just the sight of someone's name in your email box sets you off screaming and flipping off the screeen, futile or not. Ultra frustrating that was. I was advised to just delete it, but I responded back fairly nonchalantly. "Glad to hear you're well or whatever." Let's close the book on all that now, shall we?

Ms. Mommy came to us to make Christmas dinner. I love how parents can tell you how fat you are one second and then make a feast with ham, chicken, stuffing, macaroni, yams, and cornbread that it's obviously up to you to eat. Ant and I noted amazed that it's probably more food than we've ever had in our fridge at one time. And damn it's good too! I got her a mini mp3 player that's so cute that it almost tempted me to buy one for myself. (Speaking of mine, it's finally on its way back to me! I dropped it too many times and they just scrapped it and gave me a new one. Yay! Though, gave implies I didn't have to pay $100 for them to do that. *sigh*) My combo Xmas/birthday present is her covering the WMC trip in March. Woo! Less money for me to save is always nice.

Christmas night, Ant and I went to see Wolf Creek with apparently classloads of kids. I'm old enough that I never had to deal with buying a PG ticket just to see an R rated movie, so imagine how annoyed I was when all the brats buying tickets for The Ringer ended up in my theater. And you know I wasn't happy about the assholes with the baby in the carriage either. Yeah, your 1-year old is totally going to sleep through that loud ass horror movie! Dicks. People suck. That's probably why I don't go to the movies often, besides it costing $10.25 at that place. Damn. I still remember how pissed I was when the $2 theater went up to $3! I feel old.

And before I forget, my favorite Christmas text: "Merry Christmas. Thanks for you being you. And for letting me be me."

Posted by Candicissima at December 28, 2005 12:14 PM