(no subject)
Driven by the need to forget
You had lost all your dreams
Running from your pain and regret
You wanted to escape their web
Torn by the fate you had met
You had turned into pure need
Tearing apart the last net,
You were not able to hold back
Ah, good old song lyrics. You're always there when I feel the need to expose my emotional barometer without going to the pesky bother of actually talking about anything real. Instead, I give you "Boring what I've been doing with my days update 104". Yay! Obfuscate! Obfuscate!
So, let's do this entirely out of chronological order starting with the easy stuff. For the majority of this week to properly simulate my activities, do the following: Get a balloon. Blue is obviously ideal if you're going for verisimilitude, but I'm not going to be a stickler. Fill it with something unpleasant and gooey. Draw a frowny face on it. For added realism, a little speech bubble saying "Please kill me!" would be great. Now jump forcefully on top of it and watch the fun. Repeat over the course of several days.
The week before was actually jam packed full of socialness of a non-typical nature. I went to Diana's birthday potluck and met new people. I even spoke once or twice, which is sort of epic considering how much I tend to shut down around strangers. I hung out with Helena which I've never really done much outside of a club context before despite knowing her for a decade. I saw Waitress with Simon, which isn't actually that atypical considering we see movies together fairly frequently, but after that I wandered into the city and had a boy's night out with Tom Parker, Campmate of the Year and Roland. It is amusing me to choose to remember that evening as the scene from Say Anything where Lloyd goes to hang out in the parking lot to get a male perspective on his problems:
Denny: Man, all you gotta do is find a girl that looks just like her, nail her, and then dump her, man. Get her off your mind.
Mark: Your only mistake is that you didn't dump her first. Diane Court is a show pony. You need a stallion, my friend. Walk with us and you walk tall.
Luke: Bitches, man.
I am casting myself in the role of Luke. I should note that this is not even vaguely how the conversations went, just in case you were worrying. It is also amusing me that when choosing to describe a guy's night out, I have admitted to having intimate knowledge of the movie Say Anything. I am such a fucking girl.
Oh, an amusing anecdote that happened before that. Considering I was in the Mission anyway, I swung by Borderlands to grab the new Malazan (I continue to shake my head at anyone not reading these), and while walking off to a cafe that rumor had it Vanessa was at to kill some time, I was stopped on the street by someone who wanted to take a picture of me reading while walking for her blog about people reading. Her camera died, but it looks like she still posted the entry, complete with the image on the shirt I was wearing at the time that she must have dug up after the fact. I am internet famous! Again. Without the stupid drama this time.
On Thursday, I ended up seeing Beach Party at the Cerrito with Will, Damon, Rez and Raven. Oh the awesoming. Somehow I'd always convinced myself that beach party movies originated in the 50's, and hence, while being an amusing concept, they were more ... accidentally hilarious. Oh the difference a decade makes. I simultaneously want to change my last name to Von Zipper (Joshie Von Zipper has a certain European sensuality, you must admit), own a pair of time suspenders and grow a luxuriant flowing beard just like the professor character. Oh the things I could do with such a beard. Apparently those things do not involve being able to find a picture of it on the internet, so you'll just have to suffer your pathetic beardless lives. How can you bear to go on?
Let's see, what else. Last Friday I saw Paprika (which was great, though great in a "If you already like anime" way, not great in a Miyazaki style "See it whether or not you like anime" way) and then did the traditional Au Coquelet hanging out and playing silly games. Saturday I wandered about Berkeley with Rebecca and saw Day Watch (Which sadly really wasn't very good. I'm kind of glad she flexed theater employee cred and got us in free), then off to Jarek and Dan's birthday party.
Huzzah. We're more or less up to date. Let's just wrap up today quickly. I woke up early for an interview. A silly, silly, interview. I have in the past talked about how I am not incredibly good at the ... dishonest aspect of the interview process, which is to say talking yourself and your unbelievable exuberance about the job in question up. Right. That's me normally. Today I walked in getting over being sick, in a pretty incredibly bitter mood, and with an offer letter for somewhere around at least two times what this job is likely to pay waiting for me at home. Want to guess how rah-rah-rah I was? Yup.
Then I went off to Oakland for a monthly band/burlesque thing they've been doing at the Uptown that Rebecca and occasionally Kyra have been performing at (in completely separate troupes). In the BART on the way back two women talked to me about chainmail and Beowulf. It was very confusing, but as far as BART conversations go does beat "The bugs. Get them off! THE BUGS!" or "Jesus wants me to show you my penis!". I will neither confirm nor deny having been subjected to either of those conversational topics at one point or another.
And now, I'd sleep if I were a normal person, but instead, I think it's off to read I go.
Oh, I almost forgot, your band name for the day is Diligently Pink. Clearly Queercore of some sort. I think that one was a collaborative Roland and Tom Parker, Campmate Of The Year effort.
You had lost all your dreams
Running from your pain and regret
You wanted to escape their web
Torn by the fate you had met
You had turned into pure need
Tearing apart the last net,
You were not able to hold back
Ah, good old song lyrics. You're always there when I feel the need to expose my emotional barometer without going to the pesky bother of actually talking about anything real. Instead, I give you "Boring what I've been doing with my days update 104". Yay! Obfuscate! Obfuscate!
So, let's do this entirely out of chronological order starting with the easy stuff. For the majority of this week to properly simulate my activities, do the following: Get a balloon. Blue is obviously ideal if you're going for verisimilitude, but I'm not going to be a stickler. Fill it with something unpleasant and gooey. Draw a frowny face on it. For added realism, a little speech bubble saying "Please kill me!" would be great. Now jump forcefully on top of it and watch the fun. Repeat over the course of several days.
The week before was actually jam packed full of socialness of a non-typical nature. I went to Diana's birthday potluck and met new people. I even spoke once or twice, which is sort of epic considering how much I tend to shut down around strangers. I hung out with Helena which I've never really done much outside of a club context before despite knowing her for a decade. I saw Waitress with Simon, which isn't actually that atypical considering we see movies together fairly frequently, but after that I wandered into the city and had a boy's night out with Tom Parker, Campmate of the Year and Roland. It is amusing me to choose to remember that evening as the scene from Say Anything where Lloyd goes to hang out in the parking lot to get a male perspective on his problems:
Denny: Man, all you gotta do is find a girl that looks just like her, nail her, and then dump her, man. Get her off your mind.
Mark: Your only mistake is that you didn't dump her first. Diane Court is a show pony. You need a stallion, my friend. Walk with us and you walk tall.
Luke: Bitches, man.
I am casting myself in the role of Luke. I should note that this is not even vaguely how the conversations went, just in case you were worrying. It is also amusing me that when choosing to describe a guy's night out, I have admitted to having intimate knowledge of the movie Say Anything. I am such a fucking girl.
Oh, an amusing anecdote that happened before that. Considering I was in the Mission anyway, I swung by Borderlands to grab the new Malazan (I continue to shake my head at anyone not reading these), and while walking off to a cafe that rumor had it Vanessa was at to kill some time, I was stopped on the street by someone who wanted to take a picture of me reading while walking for her blog about people reading. Her camera died, but it looks like she still posted the entry, complete with the image on the shirt I was wearing at the time that she must have dug up after the fact. I am internet famous! Again. Without the stupid drama this time.
On Thursday, I ended up seeing Beach Party at the Cerrito with Will, Damon, Rez and Raven. Oh the awesoming. Somehow I'd always convinced myself that beach party movies originated in the 50's, and hence, while being an amusing concept, they were more ... accidentally hilarious. Oh the difference a decade makes. I simultaneously want to change my last name to Von Zipper (Joshie Von Zipper has a certain European sensuality, you must admit), own a pair of time suspenders and grow a luxuriant flowing beard just like the professor character. Oh the things I could do with such a beard. Apparently those things do not involve being able to find a picture of it on the internet, so you'll just have to suffer your pathetic beardless lives. How can you bear to go on?
Let's see, what else. Last Friday I saw Paprika (which was great, though great in a "If you already like anime" way, not great in a Miyazaki style "See it whether or not you like anime" way) and then did the traditional Au Coquelet hanging out and playing silly games. Saturday I wandered about Berkeley with Rebecca and saw Day Watch (Which sadly really wasn't very good. I'm kind of glad she flexed theater employee cred and got us in free), then off to Jarek and Dan's birthday party.
Huzzah. We're more or less up to date. Let's just wrap up today quickly. I woke up early for an interview. A silly, silly, interview. I have in the past talked about how I am not incredibly good at the ... dishonest aspect of the interview process, which is to say talking yourself and your unbelievable exuberance about the job in question up. Right. That's me normally. Today I walked in getting over being sick, in a pretty incredibly bitter mood, and with an offer letter for somewhere around at least two times what this job is likely to pay waiting for me at home. Want to guess how rah-rah-rah I was? Yup.
Then I went off to Oakland for a monthly band/burlesque thing they've been doing at the Uptown that Rebecca and occasionally Kyra have been performing at (in completely separate troupes). In the BART on the way back two women talked to me about chainmail and Beowulf. It was very confusing, but as far as BART conversations go does beat "The bugs. Get them off! THE BUGS!" or "Jesus wants me to show you my penis!". I will neither confirm nor deny having been subjected to either of those conversational topics at one point or another.
And now, I'd sleep if I were a normal person, but instead, I think it's off to read I go.
Oh, I almost forgot, your band name for the day is Diligently Pink. Clearly Queercore of some sort. I think that one was a collaborative Roland and Tom Parker, Campmate Of The Year effort.