I feel like I should get some kind of consolation prize for how many guys I've just met tell me they love me.

Mood: confused

I'm a godmother. Baby Bella. Born to the wonderful Mina (and her wonderfully patient husband D-----) at 1:07pm today. Perfect child. Slept almost all day. I can't wait to go back tomorrow.
I can't believe it! Mina's got a baby!

Mood: satisfied
Music: Muse

Me to Of Amber: "You don't like spiders. I think they're cute. That is the difference between us."
Mr. Oblivious to Of Amber: "You know, I've been looking for a Blanche that's afraid of spiders. Do you want to hang out?"

Hipster Guy: Romanticism
Chip: Modernism
Sex Dwarf, me, Pinkitude, ect: Postmodernism

I promise, it make sense.
Look, Hipster Guy is still in the "Oh, woe is me, I'm so different. Why me? I can't be normal like them, pity me" phase. So totally Byron, the tortured soul and all.
Chip is shouting his different-ness from the rooftops, in a totally Faulknerian/Joycian/Hemingwayian way. Like, "DUDE! I"m gonna BLOW YOUR MIND! I'm SO DIFFERENT! And angry..."
Sex Dwarf, Pinkitude and me have accepted our different-ness, and just kind of revel in it. "We can't change it, so let's ENJOY being different!"

My Modernist prof at Earlham, the awesome Gordon, described postmodernism as "We're all alone in the world. Isn't it GREAT?!"
Also, I'm not belittling the work of Byron or the modernists. They were awesome and I love them. I'm just saying...
Each one of us isn't always Romantic, Modern or Postmodern. We go through days where we're one or the other, but on the whole, I think this model fits.

I realize that there are only a couple people who read this and know those people, but I'm still kind of proud of this revelation.

By the way, I've now advanced to full-on ridiculous geekitude. I'm watching FMVs from Xenosaga. I still giggle every time they say "U-Do". hehehehe

Mood: hungry
Music: "I'm On A Boat" will be stuck in my head forever

Mr. Oblivious sometimes manages to say the exact right thing to me at the exact right time.
"Pretty as Hell."
Thanks, man. When I thanked him, he said, "It's true! You are pretty!" So I kissed his dirty-haired head and he said, "Stupid, though." And I laughed.
I miss seeing him a lot. We're going to work out this coming quarter's lunch schedule.

Thanks, Trillian for coming over. It was nice to talk to you, and have you know exactly what I was thinking.

And Of Amber always makes me feel like I'm in high school again. Weird cuz he didn't even go to CAHS. He just always pokes at me and tickles me, which no one has actually done to me since high school, so it amuses me, and makes me feel like I'm still that girl. Even just a little.

Mood: calm
Music: Lady Gaga - Poker Face (What? Do you wanna take this outside?)

I have recently been forced to realize a painful truth, and today am feeling kinda down.
I have AMAZING friends who care a lot for me and are wonderful. Even the source of the disappointment, I know he cares a lot for me, which is no small comfort.

I'm gonna be fine, though. I am writing to acknowledge an unsung hero in my life. One who picks me up when I'm down. One who has been there for me with a place for me to let out all my feelings - even longer than most of you have.

That's right. I'm talking about Doom II.

( Ode to Doom II )

Mood: amused
Music: I'm on a Boat!

I'm not going to be sympathetic to your moral cupcake dilemma.  You ask ME if you should eat a fucking cupcake? As if I could tell you not to. Then, you try to justify eating it to me by saying you'll just try to lose 6 pounds instead of five. Whatever. I have purposely chosen to opt out of that madness despite having been socialized to be obsessive about how overweight I am, a fact I am constantly reminded of.  Do you realize how insensitive it is to ask me if you should eat a fucking cupcake? I'm going to tell you to eat it, not only cuz I would, but because I want you to shut the hell up about it. It makes me feel like shit that you're talking about losing six pounds just cuz of a cupcake. What did I eat today that requires me to lose several pounds? Skyline Chili. Large Mocha. Danish chocolate milk.  When my health insurance provider is sending me letters full of tips on how to lose 30 pounds instantly in order to save big on my insurance rates, telling me you want to lose six pounds makes me want to punch you in the fucking face, you skinny ass motherfucker.
Not helping your cause, kid. As oblivious as you seem to be, I can't help but be pissed off.

Mood: annoyed

I just wrote a paper in under 2 hours. From 4:30 - 6:30. I exceeded the page length (which I feel kind of bad about but I don't know how you'd shorten an explication paper). And I still love the poem i wrote about.
I guess that English degree helped in some way!

Frank O'Hara's "Personal Poem"

And I'm having my poem workshopped today. INTENSE. I wonder if anyone will get the Dante reference. People rarely get my references. Oh well.

I'm going to be dead tired, but I'm still going on a date tonight with this guy, Secret Yeti. I have to assume it's a date, yet we're going to the Surly Girl, so it doesn't feel like... you know... one of those dates from movies.

But the important thing right now is that the paper is written, I feel good about it, and I did it quickly and efficiently. And somehow I find myself back at my desk at work. How did I get here? And on time?

Woah. Work, I guess.

On crack and probably gay.

This morning I read an article in the New York Times about a Saudi Arabian girl rock band called The AccoLade.
Not only do they have several piercings and teased hair, but they went to a coffee shop to give an interview.

This morning, when I visited their MySpace, they had 17 friends. Not even 24 hours later, they have 584 friends.
Tons of people have posted on the wall saying how amazing they are and what a great thing they're doing. Changing the world, one garage band at a time.

And my fuckin' MySpace is all screwy and won't play the damn song. I don't even know what they sound like.

Oh well. I'm just proud to live in the world today. Just for this group of punk rockers in some basement in Saudi Arabia that got over 500 MySpace friends in a day because of a New York Times article saying, "DUDE, these girls are amazing cuz they're in Saudi Arabia and they're DAMNING THE MAN!" 

Thanks to the NY Times for printing this article. Thanks to all those people who have friended them. No thanks to MySpace for being slow but I guess that's because that song is now the hottest new thing. This makes the world feel a little smaller in a good way.

Mood: sleepy

You know, black raspberry vanilla sounds like it's going to smell really nice.
It really just smells weird.
I don't recommend it.

The end.

Mood: smells weird.

I'm just watching it over again and I had forgotten how the answer to EVERYTHING during the Black Rose cycle is to revolutionize the world.
"I understand that you want your brother's undivided attention. The only answer is to revolutionize the world."
"I understand that you hate your future sister in law. The only answer is to revolutionize the world."
Every time that happens I keep thinking, "What?!" Like, what are these people ON that they don't question that logic? I get that they're upset and they're falling down an elevator shaft with a reverse-engineered butterfly but when the only answer is to revolutionize the world, I'd get suspicious. Even though I've already seen these I keep expecting someone to just say, "Dude, I just want my brother to have sex with me, man. I don't know what you're talking about..." 

For those who haven't seen the show, that whole thing didn't make sense. It's ok, it doesn't make all that much more sense to people who've seen it.
DAMN I love this show. It may be crazy, but I do recommend it highly.
And it makes me ridiculously nostalgic. I miss 3rd floor OA first year. It's Tabasco's birthday today.

LOVE YOU TABASCO! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

Mood: amused
Music: Absolute Destiny Apocalypse ^_^

I was working on the dress rehersals for Tartuffe.
Hungry for election coverage, we refreshed CNN.com every thirty seconds to bring us the news. Actors running between the band room and the green room to shout which state went blue or red - in their costumes, no less.
Triumphant, one shouted, "They called Florida for Gore!"
We jumped, we yelled, we exhalted in democracy!
Despite our age, we knew what was at stake. Having just put on a dress rehersal around the poll booths, we knew our location's results.
An overwhelming support for Gore - no surprise.
A sizable number for Bush, but no contest in comparison.
Twenty-something people voted for Nader.
Nine for Buchanon.
The tallies were printed out and posted on the school's front door for an election official to record. We watched him glance from the paper to his notebook, fascinated. Actors know how to get out of their costumes, right?

Today, I am wearing one sock with sushi on it and one sock with unicorns. Two things I loved when Bill Clinton was elected the first time.
I am also wearing a tie-dyed tank top that I wore all the time in 2000. I'm trying to make them into good luck charms based on their association with the finest president I've ever known. Maybe they can bring me another fine president.

OBAMA '08!

Mood: excited
Music: Spacehog - Mungo City (dunno why)

For an essay I am writing, I looked up "Clinical depression" on wikipedia and got "Major depressive episode".
I had to laugh. It's just too accurate. Every thing they list I've got, or have had some variation on. It's hilariously accurate.
I guess it's kind of comforting in a cynical way that even a child with the internet could diagnose me. Doesn't really help any with my essay, though.

I'm not sleeping tonight. Just like college.

Current Location: my overcrowded room, which Johnny suspects is a symptom :)
Mood: trying to work - failing
Music: The Posies - When Mute Tongues Can Speak

You know, I was going to post about how nice it is to be drunk and talking to people I love.
Or about how great it is to get drunk, have a good time, and not have to worry about some bullshit I don't know how to deal with. Poofy Shirt found someone else apparently. I think I either hurt or pissed off Frankenfurter. Anyone else didn't give a shit to begin with, which is fine. But it's nice to not have to worry or care. None of it. Nope. It's comforting to not have to deal with anything. That way I can be a voyeur or dance or talk however I want and no one's paying too much attention. I hate this concept of the potential of dating. Hell, I'm tired of it already. Walking on pins and needles just to find out some kind of bullshit that won't last anyway. I'd rather be reading.
I know I can complain obsessively about this shit and I"m sorry to all that I've bored with it. Though I may be interested in potentially being not single at some vague point in the future - I'm really not interested in bullshit. Woah - Deja Vu.
There's a glitch in the matrix.
Tonight's been a night for quotes. Dressed as Kaylee, I quoted all of Firefly I could think of. Then someone looked like Mouse so I started reciting The Matrix. It's a sad time.
Anyway, though, wrapped up in all this shit is my LOVE for my really good friends. Some of which were there. Some of which weren't able to be. Some of which talked to me when I got home drunk stumbling around my house mumbling about sandwiches. I appreciate you all. THanks for putting up with me.
<3

Mood: drunk

Boys (apparently they come in masses now) haven't paid any attention to me in a year (and any they may have paid is arguable). Suddenly I turn 24 and I've got mojo.
2 guys at one party talking to me. Arguably 3. (Admittedly that was the week before my 24th birthday, but whatever, same difference really)
Ok, whatever. One was weird and creepy and too forward. He was also 35 and was divorced in May. We'll call him Poofy Shirt. Just cuz I'll probably never refer to him again and he was wearing a Poofy Shirt.
One was... well, is... Frankenfurter. So that's fun. He's fun. Not necessarily for dating, but he's a fun guy to talk to. We'll call him Frank for now.
Then, the other night I go to Velouria's new place for some games. I spend all evening yelling at this dude I was sitting next to cuz he wasn't paying attention. I mean every three seconds someone had to explain to him what was going on. We were just playing Mall of Horror! Not terribly complicated, as long as you're paying attention. I really wasn't very nice about it either.
He My Space friended me the next day. Sure, whatever, some people do that, you know? I mean, I have to know someone for months before I friend them, just cuz I'm weird like that. But some people friend people the moment they meet them. ::shrug::
I get a message from him this morning like, "Hey, do you wanna hang out or get coffe or some such whatever you're cool and I'm a cat." (he's not really a cat, nor did he say he is, he just made his picture a cat so I keep having to wonder who this cat is and then I think, "oh yeah, that guy')
I'm like, "Dude, I had had a couple ciders and wasn't very nice to you. WTF?" I didn't actually say that, but I'm thiking about it.
I probably shouldn't put this up so that Velouria can see. That might get him in trouble of some sort, but he should be paying more attention. Really.
Guys are really weird. Frankly, I'd rather hang out with Be Fri or Mr. Oblivious any day. For that matter, there are a dozen more interesting boys that arent' at all interested in me that I'd rather hang out with. Wonder what that says about me?
 

Mood: the absurdity.

Last night at Sex Dwarf's house:

I was sitting on a couch next to Little One who was next to Glitter Man who was leaning up against Beautiful Lover of D who was talking to Adam Ant Fan.
Glitter Man was leaning with his head against Beautiful Lover of D's side (she was on the arm of the couch), and sort of cuddled up.
Little One leaned over with his head on Glitter Man's shoulder.
I had a cat on my lap, and was thoroughly enjoying petting this cat. Also, I wasn't quite clear on why Little One sat so close to me in the first place. I was under the impression that we had an unspoken agreement to generally ignore each other. I didn't mind sitting next to him on principle, but when there's a whole couch and he sat so close to me, I thought twice of it. Breeching the unspoken agreement isn't something that should be done.
Anyway, so Little One is next to me and leaning against Glitter Man who is leaning against Beautiful Lover of D who is paying no attention.
Little One points to his shoulder and tells me to lean my head on his shoulder too.
Little One: Lean on me. Join us!
Me: I'm not really tired enough yet. ::continues to pet the cat::
Little One: C'mon pretty girl, lay your head on my shoulder.
Me: I'm not that pretty. ::this cat is being enthusiastically petted::
Little One looks at me with a questioning look.
Little One: I'm not drunk enough to say otherwise.
Me: Exactly my point.

I pretty much would have said anything to make it clear to Little One that I would never ever cuddle with him. I think that was kind of mean, but, you know. With that kid, I so totally don't care.

I really wish I could go back to a time before I'd ever heard him speak. Those were the days. Yeah...

Later on, Glitter Man and Little One disappear together.
Sex Dwarf: Where are Glitter Man and Little One?
Accidental Dolce and Me: I don't know.
::Sex Dwarf disappears upstairs::
Accidental Dolce: I knew THAT cherry had to be popped SOMETIME.
Me: ::uncontrollable laughter::

I'm glad today that none of these people read this journal.

And yes, anyone that was hoping for some kind of real update on my life will be disappointed. Sorry. I just don't really care so much about this thing anymore. ::shrug::

Mood: amused

I made it friends only since it seems only the people who are already my lj friends read it. And that previously mentioned bullshit pissed me off, and I don't want to have to deal with it anymore.
If anyone complains, I might change it back. It's one of those things where I only care right now and probably won't in ten days.
Let me know if this inhibits your LJ-reading  habits.

Music: Tool