10:24 am - July 31, 2004
My dash needs a hula girl.
So. You can't say that I have no sense of humor about my life. This morning I'm driving to work, feeling like a badass. Stereo cranked to Underworld soundtrack. If I had any kind of love from the makeup gods, I would've caked on the black eyeliner. Wearing tiny band t-shirt and Lucky jeans that confirm that my rear has stayed the same size for the past two years. (So I suppose you could say they really are lucky jeans...) My toenails are painted sparkley grass-green. I have my funky sunglasses on that make me look trendy and smart, a little Tina-Feyish, if she had really long blonde hair and was a bit slow. I'm roaring along, pretending to be an Italian racecar driver, shifting gears like it's a matter of life and death.
And then it occurs to me that I'm driving a small, cheap blue car with butterflies and sunflowers painted on it.
Yeah.
You heard me.
I was rocking out in a Geo.
I love life's absurdities.
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