Very high school of me, I know. But she's getting on my nerves.
Unfortunately, that someone is my own altered ego.
She gets a lot of attention. When I went to the Art Dorks show, I was introduced as Tara more often than Sandra. And people love to hear about Tara's adventures. No one really gives a flying rat's tail about Sandra. OK, Sandra doesn't do much except draw and ride murdersickles, but damn, Tara just talks about freakin' roller derby for hours on end. But everyone loves it.
What the hell?!?!?!?!!
And here I thought we were the same people. But apparently we're not.
I just came to the jealous realization recently, and haven't thought through the repercussions of it. Should I talk crap about my altered ego? Spread rumors? Puncture her tires? Call her out and have a bare-knuckle fight in a parking lot?
I can't kill her off yet, and she's already on hiatus 'til July. But she still persists. Betch!
Speaking of Tara, we drove to do the announcing thing in Fresno yesterday. It turned out to be a great game between the Smog City Rollergirls and Bakersfield. Bako won, but it was a close game and the audience went completely ape over it. The skaters did well(especially considering that they were skating on uber-slippery concrete), and I got $100 for my troubles(which were really nonexistent).
- having bacon on a pizza. Talk about heart attack on a plate! Loved it!
- seeing that highway 99 is almost like a real freeway...I was able to go 85mph when I got out of LA-LA Land.
- central California is still rural enough to effectively play, "What's that smell?!" for hours on end.
- knowing that I can drink Southern Comfort, Newcastle ale, and a Long Island Iced tea all in one night without losing my guts. I think the pizza helped.
- seeing Bako continue to improve. I love those girls, I really do.
Hopefully I'll have the majority of my freelance done by a week from today. Woohoo! Then I can play with the new animation desk, which got nicknamed the Divorce Desk after all the yelling and screaming the husband and I did at each other while trying to fix the damn thing and bring it into the house to set up in the art room. Nothing else really fits into the art room now, but at least the damn desk is all set up.
Here's a non-sequitir to end with: