The anticipation is worse


One of those uncertain health days. Woke up today at the edge of something terrible, and have been waiting for the axe to drop all day. So far, nothing, but I can feel it sitting there, just outside my consciousness. Keeping the meds close at hand. Just in case.

Just another Thursday night: mango daiquiris at Wild Ginger and Dance Dance Revolution and racing games at Gameworks. My new secret vice is mango daiquiris. God help me. They’re like candy in a glass!

Saw Cindy for the first time since college. Once upon a time we were in a show together, but now, in her secret life, she is a DDR monster. I was witness to this, and also to a slender wisp of a blonde boy who nonchalantly swept his way through catastrophe-level (9 feet!) “Paranoia” mixes. After we congratulated him, he said: “Oh, this is the first time I’ve played in months.”

I think it’s time to buy DDR Max and some pads and get practicing.

Frida was good. Unexpectedly restrained (considering 1999’s Titus), which made the occasional leaps into la-la dancing skeleton land seem more jarring. At first, I thought it rather passionless for a story about one of the great love affairs, but it seemed to come together before the end. General agreement between Rav and me that certain steamy Trotsky bits should have been implied rather than shown. (0_o)

  • Eglantine

    Remember, virgin daiquiris are almost indistinguishable from the regular kind, and they're actually good for you!

    ... Hang in there, ok... please take good care of yourself. Wouldn't it be ironic to get an attack during NaGetHealMo?

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