the wind can fuckin blow me (updated)

All right so here’s the deal – I’m fucking pissed off. March went in like a lion and is going out like a motherfucking ruthless banshee. Where’s my sweet, warm, docile lamb? I’ll tell you where: it fucking moved to the West Coast or some shit. It was supposed to be nice today. So I wear a cute little polka dot dress because I’m all excited for Spring weather, last day of March, gonna be April, GET PUMPED, etc, etc, you know? Well, I walk out of my building and basically end up walking against Hulk-like gusts of wind until I get into the shelter of the M23 bus overhead four long blocks away. For fuck’s sake, man. So I’m like, great, today’s one of those days. The days where I have to check my skirt every damn second to make sure I’m not unknowingly getting off some rando perv guy. The days where it’s basically a fucking waste of time trying to salvage and good hair mojo because ITS USELESS, a “chasing after the wind,” as they say. More like the wind chasing after my last damn nerve. So I’m going home now to sulk in my room and eat feta cheese until the REAL Spring weather arrives.

UPDATE: Walking back from my girlfriend’s place, after having a wonderful cuddle and visit time with her pups, I was reminded of one more reason why windy days can suck it. Trotting along to the subway, a windgust came at me so hard and so fast (hard and fast? oh, how i could go off topic with those words…mmm), I didn’t know which way was up. This may be due to the fact that there was a piece of something in my eye, a spec of New York City street whirled it’s way into my eye. I couldn’t see straight. It rolled around carelessly, just really fucking with my eyesight. Then my hair was whipping everywhere and a few strands found there way into my eye as well. Oh, but I had to pause, of course, to pull down my skirt. So. Fucking. Lame. When I got underground finally, I sat and tried to delicately rub it out without messing my Edie-fantastico eyeliner job and mascara. To no avail, of course. I used my phone mirror camera thing and when I saw the mess I made of my left eye – and we’re talking  underground gothic raver – I was so pissed off that I rubbed the other one to make it even. Oh, and by the way, it’s still in there, rolling around. My eye is raw from trying to rub it out. I give up.

Anyway. So yeah. I’m really not this rageful in real life. Only sometimes. I’m calm now. I’m rubbing my dove tattoo. Everything’s cool. Let’s listen to music. 
This song, “Windy,” by Association is not only one of my favorite songs, but it’s also weather-appropriate.
And a nice way to end a ragey blog…

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~ by angiesyounglover on March 30, 2009.

4 Responses to “the wind can fuckin blow me (updated)”

  1. Bless it. I knew you sounded cranky!

  2. There, there, little one. I think I can beat you. Our loft comes with a yacht. A skippered yacht, right? So, M & I take some of our dear friends out on this yacht to Angel Island (before it burned down), and I decide I’m going to look the part.

    So I wear a pristine white halter dress with blue pinstripes and a circle skirt. A CIRCLE SKIRT. On a motherfucking yacht. With a little neckerchief tied ’round my neck and everything. White canvas and woven, lace-up platform espadrilles, too.

    Let’s just say the skipper and his little mate got a show and a half that day. Good Lord. My circle skirt hula hooped to and fro the entire time.

    At least I had good panties on.

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