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Shoeburt
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Name: Sara
Country: United States
State: Illinois
Metro: Champaign-Urbana
Birthday: 5/12/1984
Gender: Female
Interests: Sleep, music, movies, Adult Swim, sleep, learning useless trivia, crossword puzzles, sleep...
Expertise: Being painfully shy and awkward at the randomest of times.
Occupation: Retired
Industry: Construction
Message: message me
Member Since:
6/14/2005
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| Ahhhh....nothing like three months between entries. Honestly, I just kinda forgot about Xanga for awhile. Sorry. Anyway, quick update: -Moved to Chicago with KT and our friend Geoff into a sweet tits apartment named Stormy Garcia
-Got a job with a real estate company that I worked for two weeks (today's my last day) because I'm starting a job at the spaceship hospital across the street on Monday. Hurray!
-Having a good time in the city, but I miss my Sycamore and Urbana peeps. Visits are in order, I say! And you should all move to Chicago to make it easier for me to see you. Because that's what life should be about. Making things easier for Shoe. So that's all I can be bothered to say for now. I'll get back to you when there's something of worth to discuss. | | |
| There are few things more disappointing than dreaming up a really hot, awesome guy (or girl, for you menfolk) and then waking up and realizing he's not real. I dreamed up a really hot German guy last night, and I can hardly express to you my disappointment upon waking and realizing he doesn't exist. Not cool!
The same is true for really cool places. I've dreamed about some really cool places that I really wish were real so I could hang out there. I'm one of those people that dreams every night and remembers a lot of dreams, so I've created a lot of cool things in my head. A few weeks ago I dreamed I was buying a farm (should I be concerned about the metaphor?), and it had horsies and duckies and a pheasant, and I was really sad when I woke up because I wasn't actually buying that farm. Has anyone else had this problem, or is it just me? | | |
| Eeeee!!! My brother got a call-back for the Broadway show he auditioned for! I'm so excited I could wet myself. If I hadn't been at work when he called me, I would have shrieked like a woman, but as it was I figured I should try to contain myself. I crossed my fingers for 45 minutes while I thought he'd be in his audition, so I feel gratified that it was worth it. His call-back audition is next Wednesday, and you better believe the fingers will be crossed again. Whoooo!!! Go Mattie, go! | | |
| Okay, for serious, now. HOW YOUNG do I look? I've had a barage of people lately thinking that I'm high school age. Christ on a bike, people! I graditated from college, for Pete's sake! I was at a family reunion this past weekend, and when they found out I'd graduated from college they were astounded because they thought I was still in high school. Also, I lady I work with thought I was about 17 (!), and I think it was only about a year ago that a lady at a clothing store asked my mom whether I was in high school or junior high.
JUNIOR HIGH. I mean, really. Evidently I look young, but junior high would mean that I was, at the MOST, 14 years old. I mean, come on! I guess it could be worse. Most women love when people think they're younger than they really are, but this is getting a little extreme. Do I need to "age up" my look? It's not like I wear my hair in pig tails and shop at Gap Kids (not that I could if I wanted to). Blarg.
P.S. My brother auditioned for a Broadway show today. He'd get to work with puppets! Keep your fingers crossed for him! | | |
| w00t for trips to Naperville that involve birthday dinners at steakhouses where you practically have to mortgage your house to afford a tenderloin! That's right, last night Shoe went to Naperthrill for a Tito's birthday dinner at a swank-tastic restaurant. It was tasty, but DAMN pricey. I got a salad. Alex had his steak cooked so that it was charred on the outside but raw on the inside. I was disturbed by the idea, but after having a bite I was forced to admit that it was pretty damn tasty. We all enjoyed our meals, and Greg bought Tito a tiny $65 cigar. I hope he savored it. It made me glad I don't like cigars. They smell bad. Pipes, on the other hand, are heartily approved. They smell purty.
On an entirely different note, over the past couple of days at work, midway through the afternoon a knocking sound has started emanating from the vent. Good Christ, is it annoying. Fortunately, I'm able to listen to my iPod and more or less drown it out for the most part, but there are those moments between songs when I can hear it. I seem to be the only one who's really bothered by it, although I think it's louder over where I sit. Seriously, if I didn't have my iPod with me to drown it out, I'd probably tear my hair out. I don't know why it upsets me so much, but it REALLY does. I may have to talk to maintenance people to discover the source and put an end to it, if at all possible. I feel like I'm stuck in a Poe story. | | |
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