Aug. 27th, 2011

Last night was the Friday of the forty-eight and I: drank ridiculously bourbon-spiked icebreaker, lost my voice, flogged a group of men, played runner for dramatic situations, and got kicked really hard in the shins.

Interesting night. Good night though, the parts that we're made of Fuck This All I Hate You. I still have very little in the way of, you know, a voice but other than that I feel perfectly fine. I just had no idea how much I talk and sing under my breath every freaking second of the day, because not doing it is making me feel like a mental case.

Echo went outside to enjoy the gorgeous day of sunshine and got herself stung in the throat by a bee, the loser. She had to go to the vet. Man, my throat has problems too but I didn't get to go to the vet, did I?

Anyway, soon the Saturday night festivities will begin properly and Alison and I shall go join them. Hopefully this voice of mine chooses to stay at least a little and I can pretend that I'm all sexy and husky, instead of being mute. I suck at mute.

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honeyspider

August 2012

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