Well, I didn't have a gold-capped tooth, but I made $12 and three candy bars tonight. :) I think I may have a lucrative second profession as a tarot reader. It's exhausting, though. As much bunk as people make it out to be, I've seen it be dead on too many time since I picked it up again...this doesn't mean I ask them what I should wear in the mornings before I leave the house, but I certainly will heed a warning or a "heads up" put out there by the universe/powers that be. In any event, I had a marvelous time testing my skills at reading perfect strangers...it was exhausting. I'm emotionally drained...I didn't realize it, but I read for nearly 4 hours straight...and people were by turns skeptical, fasinated, intrigued, and surprised. On the whole, though, they seemed very pleased with their readings and very impressed at the accuracy. (yay, me!) It was a pleasant evening, all around...despite douchebag being there. For those who missed what was happening a few posts ago, the basso profundo that I had been greatly interested in started dating another girl in the program...ok...there's more to the story, but who needs the sordid details in which she decides *she* wants him and enjoys competition enough to dump her current boyfriend and snatch him away with lures/promises of much sex, alcohol, and cigarettes? What more could a man want? Fucker. So, that's what was over...and, oddly enough, he's trying to get back in good graces...I guess he's had enough of locking himself in his apartment with her...three weeks of that and he craves other human contact. Whatever. So, he was there and had a very interesting reading...very interesting.

Post-party, I drove Katia (my mezzo counterpart) back toward her apartment, when we heard a thumping under the car...the universe deemed it appropriate for me to have a flat tire in a big city, all alone, and without a jack in my car...thrilling. Hooray for AAA. Who sends me an angel of a man to change my tire at 2:30 in the morning. A hot man who changes my tire. A hot man with a cute accent who changes my tire. A hot man with a cute accent who changes my tire and then tells me that my spare has a hole in it. *witness Rachel crying out, "What the hell, universe?!"* The hole wasn't bad, though and I could drive home on it, no problems. *thank you, universe* And here I am, finishing up a blog at 4 a.m. when I work in less than 6 hours. How...delightful. I gosleep. And dream pretty dreams...of drummers. ;)