disquieting

Friday night, I'm standing in a crowded room with a mediocre band thundering through my chest. I wrap my arms around his bulk and shout over the music that I'm leaving and if he sees the Commander, to tell him that I'm sorry I couldn't find him to say goodbye.

He leans down to me, still a great distance away despite my five inch platforms. In my ear, he says/shouts: "I just wanted to tell you that you look good." I peer up at him, surprised at this. "No, really." He continues. "You were smiling. A lot. And you look happy. It's a good look on you."

I hug him again and leave, before he has the chance to see my face fold in upon itself.

Happy. That's an unusual concept. I'm more inclined to blame it on the three Red Bull and vodkas that I knocked down my throat, in rapid succession. Or I could blame it on how I just get disoriented whenever I come back to the city, especially when I become surrounded by so many faces from my past. But, happy? That's not normally an adjective which many people would apply to me.

do they have their own theme song?

For the first time in the entire duration of my and The Engineer's relationship, we made it to a First Friday in Philadelphia. Despite the fact that I wasn't much thrilled with going and despite the fact that I stupidly wore my five inch platforms for an evening of travelling by feet in an area of the city that does not believe in modern cement sidewalks; they're all cobblestones. And hilly as fuck. Sheesh.

Miss Robin joined us and we threw ourselves into an evening of our usual obnoxiousness.

Will you calm down? They're not going to run out of art!
Asslicker. Cocksocket, five dollars. Asslicker. Cocksocket, five dollars.
I am no longer having this conversation with you.

After stopping at Olde City pizza and being served by the world's most surly waitress, we trudged our way back to South Street to the TLA for the stellastarr* show. It was like old school night, up in that piece. I saw a number of people I haven't seen in ages, which is the norm whenever I show my face in the city (which is rarely). I even had the displeasure of spotting my very first roommate, known as Fuck-You-Todd, and smirking at him from across the bar.

Before the show, I ran into Commander Jurin and gave him a birthday present I had scared up for him, a stuffed bat which squeaks shrilly when you press its stomach. Though I suppose I would also squeak shrilly if you squeezed the fuck out of me, it was a good present and he seemed happy with it. Great! Now we've got a new mascot!

Standing in the bar, I run into Big Sam. Who I haven't seen in about three years or so? He lifted me from the floor in a giant bar hug, exclaiming over how good it was to see me and then introduced me to two girls who were standing there with them. One of them, Jill, said she had heard a lot about me. This drew a raised eyebrow and a step away, as whenever I hear something like that it usually means that someone has been talking a lot of shit on me. However, Jill is friends with Muridae (on my friends list) and she had told her about me. I told Jill the story of how Muridae and I originally started talking online, which started out with, "I know you! I've been in your house!" hee! I also ran into Miss Beth, which was unexpected and most pleasing.

A group of us lined ourselves across the front of the stage, in an effort to heckle the Commander as his mother and a few other relatives had come to town for the show. The crowd was semi-decent, though far too many of those bizarre neo-mods that seem to be following this band around. It did give us the chance, however, for Robin and I play to play "PunchMod", which is enormously fun.

The band was great, despite the fact that standing so close to the stage kind of warped the sound quality for me. The following band, the Raveonettes or whatever the fuck they're called, left me dry. I am wholly unimpressed with them, their sound, and even the way they look. Big fucking yawn, so we left a quarter of the way into their set and made our way to Zipperhead's with BlueMoonBaby.

The next day brought a road trip to my father's neighbourhood for me to pick up my new baby ferret, Howard Phillip (you can call him HP) and to pick up my smaller ferret cage from my dad's house. However, this wound up with me setting off my father's burglar alarm and the police showing up. oops.

Later that evening was Mister Kyle's (the same Kyle who directed the zombie movie we were in) party in the town I grew up in. Food was consumed, strange Asian drinks were drunk (one of mine had a marble in it and a warning list the size of your fucking arm, not to mention the instructions on how to open the goddamn bottle), and I hid on the deck as to avoid conversation with people I don't really know. Which didn't work all that well, as I was forced to make small talk a few times with absolute strangers, something that I despise doing. Not too bad, though it could have been better for me to not be such an unsocial fuck.

Today was my lecture on Lucifer for the MWC, which went sort of okay. I suppose if I wasn't forced to read by candlelight because we had our meeting outside and it got dark quicker then I thought it would, then it would have been better. I'd also like to note that I am an absolutely ASSY public speaker, regardless of whether or not I can see the words clearly. Anyone who says any different is seriously deluded, I'm just no damn good at it.

A long weekend, but an okay one. I'm currently sniffling like a fool because I had the ferrets out a little while ago, rough housing with them, and it made my allergies get all pissy with me. I think I may go take a long bath and read "Memoirs of a Swordswallower" before it gets too late.

hah!

Oh, the things which amuse ( me )