Heavy clouds, but no rain

*sigh*

So I've gone from sleep interrupted by strange and sometime bad dreams to sleep fitful due to the upcoming full moon. No dreams I can remember, but I'm still just dang tired all the time.

Last night, there was a knock on my door at 10 PM. Only one person who's locked out ever knocks on my door, so I knew who it was: my hottie neighbor's hottie brother. Argh! I'd already washed my face and put on my night serum crap, which makes me look really oily, my hair was pony-tail lumpy and I was in scrubs/T-shirt. I don't look that much different without makeup, but I still don't like people to see me looking all monstery. If he had called the pager, I could have at least attempted to make myself presentable.

Why Is Everybody Always Lookin' At Me?

Okay, I know the lyrics actually say pickin', not lookin', but during my lunch break I went for a walk, as I always do. I ran into an interesting fellow, who, when he saw me approach, moved to the outer edge of the sidewalk and just froze like a (rather intoxicated) rabbit. As I approached, I do as I usually do with passers-by - I looked at him and smiled, even though he was peculiar.

Dude: Hey! Why do people always STARE at me? Jeez.
Me: I can't be certain, but it might be because you are wearing a bunch of leaves on your head and STARING at them.

Leaves, freshly plucked. On top of and wrapped around his head. Robin Goodfellow on booze and/or meth.

I think staring shouldn't bother him as much as the people who run away from him.

(no subject)

Oh, and I would like assurances that huaraches are not, in fact, returning as a fashion trend. Some things are better left dead. I had white huraches when I was 13. They were truly horrible. I keep seeing huraches everywhere - metallic ones, jelly ones...please, no. NO!

Espadrilles should also be killed dead.