2003-11-14 - 7:22 a.m.
"I heard I got the job,
I heard I'm the new girl at the comic shop
- Shah nah na nah na nah na nah.
Brother what a night it really was!
Brother what a fight it really was! Glory be!"
Woot! *victory dance*
(lyrics for my victory dance provided courtesy of 'Night Chicago Died' by Paper Lace, sung in the echoing hallways of my mind by Jack Black)
I start my jedi training this weekend.
That would be the same weekend where I've absurdly overbooked myself to celebrate Aly's birthday very belatedly, hang out and consume curry with the old UC residence crew, attend the Santa Claus parade with a hyper four-year-old, and meet up with Chrissy's lovemuffin from abroad.
And, if I can just push past my mental block about it, call my parents. I'm just so worried that when I call, I'll get bad news, and I know that putting it off isn't helping any, but every day that passes is like a little breath of air into this balloon of anxiety in my stomach. Its like my parental anxiety appendix, throbbing and huge and waiting to burst and kill me. How did I achieve such a high level of drama with this situation?
First thing on the schedule: meet philipisPDR.
What the heck does 'PDR' stand for, anyway? Is it something so utterly horrific that it cannot be expressed openly in words, so must be referred to only with an acronym? Should I be braced to meet someone who is Pretty Damned Randy? Who has Pathetically Damaged Retinas? A Potentially Devastating Ruffian? Pustulent, Dank, Repulsive? Programmed Destructo Robot? Poorly Defined Rump? Pink Dermatitis Rash? Pectorally Dominant Rambo? Psychotic Duplicating Raelian? Pedantic Defunct Relic? Pedophilic Deranged Rogerer?
No, no, wait. This is terrible. I'm overreacting: given Chrissy's glowing Mona-Lisa-esque smile when she talks about him, he must be an incredibly sweet and wonderful individual. He's probably too shy to mention what a gem he is, and has cut the appropriately lavish self-description to three letters to avoid embarrassment. He could be a Positively Delightful Rabelasian. Pedagogic Diplomatic Rhodesscholar. Particularly Droll Raconteur. Politically Democratic Radical. Pleasing Dashing Rascal. Person Delivering Rapture.
The man could be any darned thing, and I'll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out. I hate mysteries. And waiting.
It occurs to me that this is entirely the wrong forum for such speculation. Too bad I Personally Detest Restrictions and Promote Diary Relations.
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