Mailed taxes out (Federal gives me $86, State gets $78 from me).
Scanned and emailed my passport for British work permits to The Bitter Tears European booking agent (Those cost 117 pounds of dollars).
Renewed my driver's license and state ID ($50).
My new picture makes me look like a woman.
Maybe I can flirt my way out of tickets now ($75).
A delivery to Glen Ellyn got me thinking.
Instead of having my Mom drive all the way out to the city for my birthday dinner, I'll just stay in the western suburbs, and we can celebrate out there.
By the time I got to my Mom's house it was 4pm.
Last night's drinking and lack of sleep had caught up to me, and then lapped me.
I took a nap on the couch until 5:30.
My mom drove her groggy son to a Mexican restaurant, where he was too tired to make any real conversation. After dinner, we raced home to watch American Idol.
I watch American Idol.
I like it for some reason.
I like Simon, and I like Kara Dioguardi.
My favorite performer this year is Siobhan Magnus.
I like her flipped out hairdoos, nutty clothes, and crazy screech.
I think that screech is what shattered her teeth into those kooky fangs.
Her speech is a whole 'nother story.
When she speaks it's in slow motion.
She speaks behind the beat.
I like that before Idol she sang in punk rock bands that played crummy basements.
The last two weeks her songs haven't been the best.
Last week she did a sleepy new age version of "Across The Universe."
Tonight she sang "Suspicious Minds" with a smile, which didn't ring true to me.
But the real performances have been her rebuttals to the judges when they criticize her artistic choices.
After her Beatles tune, Simon asked her in a challenging manner to point out what specifically she had connected with in that song. Siobhan cited the lyric "nothing's gonna change my world." She got choked up, making reference to the madness of being a contestant on this insane show.
"I'm not going to change as a person, and you can't take that away from me."
This week after her Elvis tune, the judges expressed confusion about her direction. Simon said, "you've lost who you were."
She replied in her held-back cadence, "Even I can't pinpoint what or who I am. And I've always kind of taken pride in that. I'm not just one kind of singer or one kind of person. If I can't label myself I don't think it's necessary to be labeled. I just love to sing."
She's pretty fucking cool for a 20 year old goofball.
My mom, a 60 year old goofball, likes cake. She got me a tall one made out of strawberries and whipping and lady fingers. One piece put me back in a coma, and I didn't visit much with her afterward. I just laid on the couch and stared at the TV.
During a commercial break, I saw an ad for the Kindle that featured my ex-girlfriend. I hope someday that seeing her doesn't remind me of our horrible break up. For now, it still does.
Not much else to say about that one, other than it lingered with me for the whole ride home.
A block from my house a girl in a bikini was hula hooping with wild abandon. She reminded me of my ex-girlfriend.
I just need some sleep.
Verdict: Loss
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