sun-slapped skin.

Shoot. Days keep slipping through the cracks.

Yesterday I was busy sun-bathing for most of the day, and recovering from dancing and slinging my little heart out at 2Legit Tuesday. Oh, and did I mention the merciless Poke-ball of sneezes that exploded all over my face and out of my throat, therefore causing an infection.

Pik-a-CHOO!!

I do not choose  you. Now leave me alone so these raw patches of skin beneath my nose can heal.

I'm not gonna lie. I'm actually a little bit thrilled with the idea of promoting 90's night. It's a brand new weekly event so yes, there's some groundwork that needs to be done, but soon enough it's going to carry itself and I'll be making money every Tuesday, for really doing nothing. Except screaming out the indecipherable words to Circle of Life. Yes, the DJ played that little gem from The Lion King Tuesday night.

Jaaaaaaalaaapenoooos on myyyyyy banana bread...that's always what the intro line to that song sounds like to me. Try it. Totally works. Does it make sense? No. But it feeds that fluffy facade that you actually know African grasslands Rafiki language. And that's pretty awesome.

I adore 90's music, and they're letting me bartend tuesday nights as well as promote, so I can potentially be walking away with a loooott of money every Tuesday...not to mention I get to spend my night dancing to my favorite music. So all in all, I'm excited for this endeavor. And my manager told me that after a couple weeks, if I really decide I don't want to do it, then I can tell him and he will find someone else.

It's nice to know that I'm not trapped. In the 90's.