Fawk me

So I went to go see Tori Amos. It was wonderful, I was thrilled, loved the songs, shimmied my hips a little, got a little sexy. If I had been there the right day.. The 7th? No fucking way. I thought I had made sure. I didn't want this to happen again. But it did. For the second time. The first time I bought a ticket to go see her thinking my friend would get one, but she just kind of dwindled, she doesn't like Tori much anyways, but now was a chance to prove she was a good friend of some sorts. After all, I had gone to see MxPx which really wasn't my thing, and she was really into this guy there and had this outrageous crush on him for the longest time, but never made a move. Blah. So we walked around the Key Arena, played in the fountain. Walked into this art store, unexpecting a little party going on. People walking around staring at things, and saying how it really touched them. There was wine. I wanted to get drunk and leave, but he said let's go, I don't think he was up in spirits as well. So we left. But it definately wasn't a good feeling. Like being shafted, like being choked with nothing you can do about it, like being punched in the gut. There's nothing you can do about it. I must be cursed.