mercredi, octobre 11

black cats, red dogs, breakfast

so i really want to go to the billy talent/antiflag/moneen show, but i fear that i might be too old.

why do i think this? well, 'cause i'm not sure that any of my friends would want to go (the architect notwithstanding - he'd probably do it if i really wanted to, but whether or not he WANTS to is another issue). as well, the thought of being surrounded by 10,000 angst ridden teenagers hurts me inside.

at what point do you become to old for punk (even pop-punk) shows? ever? i didn't go to rancid, bad religion, or alexisonfire for pretty much the same reasons. (as an aside, i picked the kiddo up after the alexisonfire show, and was reminded of why i didn't accompany him - horde after horde of pubescent boys roving commercial drive in beer-and-weed fueled packs...)

maybe it's around about the same time that you find yourself struggling to complete your performance self-appraisal. i'm having a bitch of a time with it, because the first section asks me to list my key performance factors, then rate my acheivement of these objectives. since i don't really have a formal job description (we joke that it would just say 'other duties as required') i'm having trouble figuring out whether or not i've managed to acheive my fiscal objectives.

le sigh.

as another side note, guess which super lucky sundae is getting her very own ohmibod? i haven't got much experience with power tools - in fact, up until saturday (ha, yup. this sundae girl received a "cordless personal massager with infrared heat" as well as a pair of super-hot black boots as prezents this weekend) i'd never owned one. the thought of making playlists designed to get me off as quickly or as slowly or as intensly as i feel like is just fucking awesome. as is the thought that the architect ordered it for me. on friday. while we were getting drunk on (rather decent) red wine with my boss. MY BOSS.

ha that rocks.