10/5/08 and still hopeful.

I'm angry at myself. I knew Against Me! was playing at the HOB, I also knew the show was too expensive for me to afford right now. So I slacked and didn't buy the ticket. Now I find out, a mere 10 days prior to the show, that there is an AM show at Common Grounds in FREAKING Gainesville . . . and it's sold the eff out. I'm angry. But still hopeful. I've asked everywhere, including here, for people to keep a look out for an extra ticket.

I guess what it comes down to is this: whether I have a ticket to the show or not, I'm going to Common Grounds on 10/5. I might find someone with an extra ticket milling around The Porch -- which would truly make me explode with joy. But even if I don't find someone, The Porch has happy hour from 6 - 10pm, 241 wells and drafts with NO cover so I'll be able to drown my sorrows while fainting hearing Against Me! play in literally the next room.

I'm begging you -- a ticket to the show costs $10 but I'd pay $20 to someone (even a crackhead) for it. Just keep your ear to the ground for me. I'm begging.

Comments

Someone busier than you is running right now.

I have a confession to make to my spark buddy, Melissa: I did not go for a run last night. I'm terrible, I know. Here's what else I know: 1. I have never made such great progress in getting into shape as I did when I was jogging regularly. 2. My knee starts to stay in a constant state of noticeable discomfort after I've jogged for over a week. 3. I miss the liberating feeling of running. 4. I miss the empowerment of cross-training (biking, swimming, running) So I've been perusing the intarwebz for motivational media this morning. And while I hate Nike for their shoddy work ethic, jacked up prices, and apparently tiny clothes, I love them for their motivational material. I just have yet to find any media more inspiring to me than the following advertisements. And ... "I am addicted. I've collected footsteps before dawn. Seen places I never knew existed. Run to the moon and back. Been a rabbit for the neighborhood dogs. Obeyed the voice in my head. Let music carr

The heat is on...

I've got to admit, now that people are actively involved with following and commenting on this blog, I feel pressured to write legitimately interesting stuff. Some things that peeve me: 1. I typically don't complain about misspellings of my name, but after three years, my co-worker still doesn't know my name is spelled with one L. Whenever he writes a message for me, he directs it to "All-" ugh. Initially I thought, maybe this message is for ALL of us. Wrong. It's specifically for me, he just doesn't know it only has one L. And I bet a million pesos he also doesn't finish spelling it out because he doesn't know it ends in i-s-o-n. I mean, it is a tricky name after all. 2. I went grocery shopping yesterday. I had a list of five things to get in Publix: dog food, dog treats, Gatorade, wine, toilet paper. I came out with 15 things (I counted because I wondered if I could squeeze into the express check-out... nope). I came out with 15 things -- NONE of

603.

I never told you this story, but when I was a three, I had to have physical therapy for a broken femur. Every single day we drove to PT, we went over a small, fairly insignificant overpass with had a shopping plaza below it. The address for the shopping plaza was just barely visible over the bridge. And it was 603. And every single day as we went over, I would excitedly blurt out the numbers to show my mom I recognized them. This turned into a game for us. And eventually, a tradition. Fast forward into my "more grown up" ages ... like ... high school. And, if you could be a fly in my truck, you would have without a doubt witnessed me driving over the overpass by myself and, sure enough, I'd just say it ... "six oh three." Shortly after high school is when I met Seth, Tommy, Leif, Troy, and Jonesy in Gainesville. Still, there was no connection. Their friends and families came to visit, we then bonded, they returned home, and still, nothing. It wasn't until th

never fully-clothed or intentionally misinforming

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