collard mercs

i have started keeping track of things i attribute to mercury being in retrograde. so far they are:

-losing my keys at work
-losing my spare bike key
-my bus being 21 minutes late
-losing my library book so severely that spl is threatening to send me to collections
-relentless automated phone calls re: my vehicle's factory warranty
-the button on my jeans actually broke. it did not pop off. it just broke in half. while i was peeing.

granted, all of these things happen to me frequently anyway. and granted, this whole retrograde business isn't supposed to start until tomorrow morning. but still. i am preparing for the worst. i imagine it's going to involve a lot of communication break downs and relationship processing and me being late for work. fuck friday the 13th. it's nothing. i'm staying in bed until may 30th.

and, as if that weren't enough planetary action to make turn me into grumpy grumpkins, there is a full moon saturday. i'm in a love/hate relationship with my blood and the lunar cycle. i think i ovulated last week, which perhaps will put me on the right track for once. or it could be all in my head. i'm growing increasingly irritable by the minute.

this calls for shitty bar food, touchy porn, and shamelessly eating my weight in pearl jasmine confections.

on the way home from aforementioned activities, liz t and i walked by the fusion ultra lounge, the swanky club that shares a wall with the divey sketch-bar blue moon. they have the dress code posted on the window that includes such things as: "clean shoes. no solid color shirts. tight fitting clothes. collard shirts." collard shirts, eh? so i and my dress code violating ass decided to pop in and inform the management of the spelling error. some server came out to investigate and just looked perplexed. says liz, "it says collard. not collared. like collard greens! which really doesn't mean a lot when it comes to shirts!"

true. it doesn't mean a lot when it comes to shirts. give me the blue moon any day.

going to bed to hide out. see you in 23 days.




p.s. eek! i just realized i will be flying on an airplane during this chaos. a terrible idea. a terrible. idea.