Most Times

I wish we could just do it again.

I can't see any reason why not.

Uncanny Valley

Fresh from The Japan Times Twitter...

Thought #1: I want a suckling baby sealbot for Christmas.
Thought #2: Robotic receptionist freaks me out a little.
Thought #3: I would respectfully dry hump Japan if they would let me.

Yeah.

Personally, I think it's weird that people (or at least I do) get the same thing every time they take the Myers-Briggs test. Seriously, I get INFJ every single time- no matter where or when I take it. Yeah, I get that it is "supposed to work that way" and all but, still...
I think it's fucking strange.

Hidden High Fives

You know, I have these little trinkets from my adventures hidden within the pages of all my books. That's where I keep them. It's random.
Then, when I go to read the book (or read it again at a later time) I get to feel awesome and remind myself of all those bitchin' moments.
Whether it's my Metro pass from the Oberkampt station in Paris that I stuffed into my pocket and found in Be Here Now, a ticket to Nixon in China stashed within Geek Love, or that entrance ticket to the Deutsches Museum falling out of Vert and onto the floor, they always have a way of bitch slapping your day to day crap into perspective.
It give me these kernels of inspirational moments that YES, a dirt broke introverted girl from Milwaukie Oregon can in fact pick lemons off a tree in Italy, stand under a roller coaster in the middle of the night in Japan, or soak her achy feet in this very spot in the Danube river on a Thursday in Budapest.

These are all things that I have been lucky enough to have done and then randomly I get to experience all over again within the pages of my late night reading hours. It makes me super grateful for all the moments so disgustingly perfect that I couldn't have even dreamed up with also a twist of completely stoked on what is still waiting.
I think I really needed a reminder lately that if I want it bad enough, I can pretty much do whatever the hell I please.
High five.

35A

Cue the blood...

In case you had any doubts on the hap's tonight-

We rocked that fucking KISS concert like a couple of buttrockers named Misty. I got so many incredible shots it's overwhelming.
I have no voice, I can't hear, I'm allllllllllll sweaty, and I can't feel my feet. I am going to go put on my brand spankin' new pair of KISS panties and hit the damn hay.
Happy Fucking Birthday, Doro.
Really, Not even KISS can rock as hard as you.

Damn it, Jinn...

Like a proper jinn, Mr. Peter Murphy has been working overtime luring me into the deep desert wasteland of sleep.
Just when I thought I was done for, I was awakened by the sunshine beat of Passion Pit.
I kinda love it. It makes me smile. Smile and clean things.

Also, there better be some pyrotechnics at KISS tomorrow night. I'll understand if they don't play their disco but, I need the pyrotechnics.
It's crucial.

Your sleepy. I am sleepy too.

Cliff Notes

Zoom Zoom

Fixed my helmet the best I could.
I got out to play for a few minutes the best I could.
I oddly didn't take any real photos. Some are trickling in from outside sources however...

I found out that I would have won the contest if I would have hung out long enough to find that out. Instead the award was given to Princess Miss Brenna and that sea of pink from a few posts back (it wasn't quite completed at that time).
That goes to show that classy comes from within and not from what's around you because I made that entire bullshit out of two sheets from Goodwill that were $1.99 each AND they were 50% off that day. Hot dog!