¬_¬

As re: the music, oh my god random guy next to me if I can hear that mope-rock so clearly you are seriously blowing your eardrums out. Do you want to be deaf by 24? DO YOU?!

Uh. Achem. Anyway.

Let's make a quick post before my japanese midterm- eek, by the way.

I'm finally caught up in nihongo- all it took was the threat of failing the class if I didn't get in all the work like rightnow. So, on two hours of sleep I have done everything- everything- I had missed before. And, it's all kind of perfect, except for that one section where I had to answer those random-ass questions.

I've been v. socially engaged the last couple of nights; monday I went to the depot with Taketa and learned that yes, indeed, I *am* a cheap date, now that I'm not constantly jacking myself up with nicotine. This is both good and bad, because while my tabs will be much cheaper, this also means I might get myself into some... interesting situations. I also learned that apparently I'm over T... that only took three years or so. This came up with my suggestion that if some old troll were to hit on me, I would label T as my totally-monogamous-has-adopted-a-Korean-child-with-me-capital-B-Boyfriend. That coupled with the fact that T and I could probably kick half the people in the Depot's asses (well, besides the lesbians) would dissuade any hopefully bought drinks with a side of a) rohypnol or b) innappropriate touching. But then an "I need an adult" moment DID happen, and... I couldn't do it. The idea just seemed so ludicrous, So it turned into, just, "Yeah, this is my... yeah."

Even as late as early 2007 the idea of even having T be my ersatz boyfriend would have thrilled me to no end, and I would have taken full advantage of that opportunity to act all boyfriendy in the hopes that yes, he would see that I was in fact totally awesome and yes, he would totally date me. Obviously this did not end up being the case, but it existed in the back of my mind for so long that I never thought I would really be over it. In fact, it turned into this weird, I guess, backup crush. I was into T and then I was into Derek and then that went to its sour end, and then back to T and then Logan, usw usw usw. But yeah, I guess that's over then. "Of course, we'll still be friends..."

I followed up the night of faggotry with a night of japanese homework until Susan decided that she was going to take me for late night adventures. I lured Arthur away from his evil math and off we went. We ended up wasting a lot of time in Beto's, that place on Howe(?) and ElCa that's very quickly becoming a staple of ASZ (Also Sprach Zarathustra?) hanging out, before deciding that damned the consequences we were heading to midtown. So we did, neglecting to remember/care that it was at this point 2 AM. We passed Lipstick, the climax of last week's adventures, just as all the hipsters were getting out; again, only using the main entrance. Seriously people. Three doors. Anyway. As it was now officially beer o'clock, we the Gleesome Threesome decided there was only one more place we could really have adventures. Oh that's right. 24-Hour WalMart.

Honestly, this would be a lot more entertaining as a photoblog, but A to my knowledge hasn't uploaded those candid shots of us with cat shelters on our heads and the Fish Riding Experience. Actually, I don't know if there were shots of the FRE, but my god was it surreal. I'm sure he'll phostoblog about it and I guess I'll just post a link to that.

Oh. Speaking of crosslinking between journals...

HI NEW INTERNET FRIENDS. I'M GLAD YOU DECIDED TO SEEK OUT MY OH-SO EXCITING AND ENTERTAINING LIVEJOURNAL ON THE INTERWEBS! DOES THIS MEAN THAT ALL OF A'S CRAZY NET STALKERS WILL START TO NET STALK ME TOO? JEEPERS OH GOLLY I JUST CAN'T WAIT!

Yeah, that vitriolic post about tthhee ppaarrttyy was referenced on the county-famous Diary of Antoine Roquentin and read by several internot celebrities. It even got a comment from one of them! Neat, huh? So you better enjoy my LJ while you can, because if I say the wrong thing now, it might get hackzored by a greyhat. Or, a lolcat. Either or.

Ok. Midterm time. Wish me luck!

Quick updates before Susan gets here:

1. Everyone had fun at the party but me. So far as I'm concerned it was a fucking disaster, and disaster's name was Arthur. He was splooging all over the place about his "first love" drunktexting him and leaving some voicemail professing his undying love for A or something. Because of this, I kept getting asked if I was "okay". I fucking hate being asked if i'm "okay". If anything, being asked if I'm "okay" will make me precisely the opposite of "okay". In fact, because of all that bullshit- oh, and he spilled a mimosa on my bed, thanks asshole- I ended up having the most violent urge I've had in months and slapped him in the face. Hard. Well. Almost. I was about three inches off, because I fail at spatial perception, and ended up spilling his drink all over the wee little Katie's tits. She seemed to be okay with it.

2. A also, in between paranoiac texting of Sam about his apprehension of staying over, gave me the worst fucking gag gift ever and refuses to take it back. Let's get one thing straight: I love gag gifts. Gag gifts are awesome. I've gotten some great ones in my time; sex dreidel anyone? But I got, from A, a copy of *nsync's "pop" on vinyl. "I saw it and thought of you", he says. My real present better be astonishing, because wow, what a misstep. By way of contrast, Alaina got me an fantastic gift, a bunch of thriftstore books that look really interesting and my own copy of The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, one of my alltime faves due to subject matter. That's because Alaina is thoughtful and kind. Chip got me an Elvis Costello album, and Susan and Alyx got me an "Open" sign. Which was was very clever of them, I suppose. Mari got me an incredibly basic cookbook, which, well, let's face it, I could use.

3. I haven't gotten anything from my dad. I can't begin to list the reasons that this is depressing, and I know, I know, capitalismcapitalismcapitalism etc, but you're not me so stfu or gtfo.

4. Portishead came out with a new album! Holy shit. It's not bad, so far as I've heard it, and the first track is the most non-portishead song in p-hizzle's history. The album goes back to standard operating procedure about three tracks in but it's a nice switch-up for that nonce.

5. Oh! And I rang in 23 by sharing my bed with a 19-year old girl. I suppose that's better than the way I rang in 22- punching the air on M's couch and vomiting a lot- but still, of all the people that could have been in my bed? Lame.

Okay, S is here. Let the adventures begin.

I had so much flippin' fun this week.

Monday, I stayed at home. After the experience of Saturday night, which was the height of St. Patrick's Day weekend, I really didn't want to go anywhere near downtown, so I had a quiet night of fixing Brian's computer and then lounging around on the couch.

Tuesday was a different story.

I started my evening by meeting a random acquaintance I'd made in midtown on saturday, to see if I could stand him one on one for a long period of time. About a half hour after we started hanging out, I had the distinct urge for a martini, so I suppose that's a no. Fortunately I cut it short by having Arthur come to Temple and rescue me- earlier I'd encouraged him to join my friend Elise and I at True Love, and so he did and we all settled in for a rousing game of sudden-death Trivial Pursuit. I totally won, because out of the three of us I knew the most about sports. Not saying much, but hey. After that A. and I made a botched attempt to buy Goldfrapp tickets and then hung out at the Doubletree hotel, watching ducks. I totally scooted his not-moped along the parking lot, which was fun. I actually increasingly want one of those; sure, there's no trunk space whatsoever, but they're supercute and wouldn't kill me were i to lose my balance.

We were waiting for Susan, who was up for late night adventuring. So, after I found a trenchcoat, we met up at a shell station and proceeded to head downtown. Our first stop was Press, but the place as absolutely dead. There was a distinct lack of music, a scooter parked on the dancefloor, and five people in the bar. So, we thought up other options, the most interesting of which seemed to be Lipstick. S had been there several times, but it was the first time for both A and I. And it was AWESOMETASTICAL: the second we got in we headed to the dancefloor and just couldn't stop. And we were dancing, and it was hot, and we were dancing, and it was hot, and then all of the sudden it was really hot, and I looked to my left and the club was on fire! The official story was that someone had fucked up the electrics below the stage, but either way I ended up lost in a crowd of hipsters trying to get out of the club through the main door- even though there are three exits. So, with Lipstick done with insanely early, we three compadres began looking for a 24-hour walmart, as there is nothing better to do at 3am that's not mexican food of dubious quality. That turned into an hour of driving around and singing along with various Strong Females In Love before S inevitably dropped A at his scooter and me at my house.

A left his bag in S's car, so it was my job to meet up with same and grab it before I went to his house for a taco night. You know, I have to say, it's kind of fun being the follower sometimes- the whole visit was pretty much controlled by him. "room time" "star trek time" "taco time" etc. In fact, I was so out of control that i ended up falling asleep on his couch. I kind of hate falling asleep around other people, unless other people are already asleep... unless I really trust the person. So basically I really hated that I fell asleep, because much as I enjoy A as a person and regardless of what we've done I don't truly trust people until I've known them for years. I also hated it because i missed the last half of the film "Thomas Amoureaux" which I was really enjoying before I. You know. Fell asleep.

The next night we had promised S to go to this night called Redemption, which is, as you'd expect, a goth night. Which, you know, cool, whatever, but one problem: A hadn't any makeup and I hadn't any goth clothes anymore. S came over around 5.30 or so and we bummed around my place for a bit listening to Crystal Castles' new eponymous release until it was time to go to A's. At same, we engaged in a brutally fast dressing session wherein S was exposed to more gay-man flesh than she had been in a while- I see her in various states of undress all the time, but I think this is the first time in years she's even seen me without a shirt- and, A wearing a suit and I decked out like Deckard, we headed out. S, for the record, was scandalously hot as a naughty librarian.

We entered to silence and various goths milling about waiting for something to happen, and spent about three hours that way. I had fun, but aside from discussing the finer points of Star Trek and A finally getting rid of that noxious callertune, nothing of importance happened. As eventually happens when you hang out with S for more than a day, we ended up at a 24-hour mexican joint, and that was when I got the call.

It was Brian. His new bird got out, and it was on the roof. Apparently B is afraid of heights, but he was going to have to get over it anyway, so we spent a couple minutes being Encouraging Friends and telling him to grow some balls and get up on his roof. The call was ended, the meal went on, and around 20 minutes later or so, I got the second call. B. "I can't... I can't get down", he said, sobbing. He was absolutely petrified. My first reaction, I'm sorry to say, was to crack the fuck up, but I kept a lid on it. The exchange ended when I couldn't be a good person anymore, which was when I said "Baby, darling, I'm going to give you to A", handed off the phone and dissolved into a giggling fit. A and I passed the phone back and forth because we both couldn't stop laughing, and we assured B that we'd be there. Cut to B's. I scramble up the admittedly rickety ladder to the roof and make it up in about five seconds, placing myself on the most stable section of unoccupied roof I can find. A holds the ladder and we eventually get B down, in a manner not unlike coaxing a cat. S comes up, we chat for a while, and then we leave- laughing our asses off the second the car starts. S and I drop off A, A gave me the lamp he promised me (but not the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster t-shirt; I want to be touched by His Noodly Appendage, damnit!) and I get kicked out of the car when I get home.

Work today was super fun because this constant socializing has afforded me the lack of sleep that is the only true catalyst for treating things as if they were at all times completely surreal and absurd. Which they are, but there's this strange human instinct to treat absolutely everything one does as if it were A Very Important Meaningful Thing. People wonder why I'm so apathetic about things sometimes and passionate at others; it's because of the fact that I'm constantly battling against that instinct. In 5,000 years it's not going to matter who wins this election, who's fucking who, what artist is doing what strange new thing, etc. The ephemerality of life is a beautiful thing and we spend far too much time trying to make it into this solid, unelastic thing because we avoid the concept that it's not going to be forever.

That being said, McCain is batshit crazy and Obama is looking really appealing.

Tonight I've been kind of wishing that time really was a 4-d crystal hanging in a transdimensional fluid or whatever. It would be so convenient to know where you were going to end up with people, I have to say. I had a dream the other night about tesseracting- that technique L'engle discussed where you "wrinkle" space and time t get where you'd rather be- and it really made me want to be able to, I suppose, look up the history slash future with some people. It'd make things a little more bittersweet but also much more upfront; for example, if I'd known that eventually my dynamic with Kyle was going to turn into him trying to scam me for money and bitch about things I could not possibly care about even tangentially, I wouldn't have taken our breakupnotbreakup nearly as badly as I did. Honestly I think that's why I still have the urge to contact Logan- he's the only person who ever dumped me that hasn't proven himself to be a total asshat, by which I mean a human being. He exists in memory for me, which will probably at one point change, but for the time being his only strikes are a ridiculous beard and a mtchbox twenty lyric on his myspace. Compared to some of my other exes? Not bad at all.

(A, if you're reading this, no, I'm not referring to you. You proved yourself a practitioner of asshaberdashery long before you dumped me :P)

Anyway, tomorrow is the big birthday shindig. Oh. I should probably talk about that for a bit.

So Mario is apparently done with me. He's 20, and while I can't possibly get into his head and figure out his decision making process, it probably has something to do with the face that A was sick of his asininity and decided to cut him off and I must have inadvertently "taken A's side" . Aside from stupid events that I can't do anything about, don't know the veracity of, and happened in the past anyway, I have no qualms with either of them, and think they should both stop taking the things they bitch(ed) about while speaking of each other so seriously. But nobody listens to meeee... anyway, M called me to tell me that no, he couldn't come to the party, because he'd be in SF. He then asked if A was going to be there, which he better will be, and then proceeded to give reason after reason why he couldn't be there, hee hee, hope you have a good time, etc. I'm okay with this. It's one less person who won't bring booze and proceed to drink all of mine, as my lovely housemate so fittingly put it. In general, he's nice and everything, but I have a ton of nice friends, nicer friends even, and they can't top Showgirls in terms of sheer insipidness (no mean feat, but somehow he did it). So, ciao M. That didn't last long.

Wow, that was the longest post I've written in months. Okay, so it's 12.58, and that means sleep time for Zero. I hope to see many of you at the party tomorrow!

22 march is the big birthday bash. So far, only 20 or so people are confirmed to show up, but there's still two weeks or so to pester and coerce people into celebrating the fact that i'm still alive. I've compiled about 5 hours of music for the purpose of listening to and dancing to, and aside from decorating stuff that i'll have to do the day of, that's all i really can do.

Wow, I have a headache.

I put A. in charge of the music in my room. I know, about five seconds after I proposed it I realized how weird it would be to have my ex in such an integral part of the party (the hipster room) but the fact of the matter is that since we broke up it's the best relationship i'll never have. I don't feel like I have to filter the things I tell him, or try to impress, well, anyone, now. And getting rides home on a moped is pretty super cool, I gotta say.

So, I got my bike back, but the frame is still fucked up, so I'm transportless. Hopefully it's just something simple that can be hammered out, but I need to get it fixed up anyway.... i dunno.

On the plus side? having a phone that works is the business.

So, it's officially over. I have to say, though, that if all my breakups were like this, I wouldn't be nearly as bitter as I am. We basically followed our pattern of having an argument, being all stilted, etc, and then doing something completely different. In this case, we trawled midtown for a couple hours, culminating with a stop into The Beat (record store for non-locals). And it was just seamless. We were doing all the things we did when we were together, we were acting the same ways (well, without hand-holding etc, which I actually think is kind of obnoxious in public) but we weren't. And it was just as good. I'd been dreading him breaking it off, and it was like this sword of Damocles hanging over our every interaction. Then it DID fall, and it cut through all the bullshit we'd been serving each other, and we could just "be". It was, really, everything my higher urges had been wanting for the last month, basically, and all I had to do was face my fear. Then, he uploaded like a gig of music for me. Score.


Also, Mari's scary good at predicting relationships. I'm never ignoring her advice again.

As far as my lower urges are concerned, yeah, fuck them. Who wants to help me make Anti-Sex League stencils?

So this was going to be a transcription of a litany against everything about being gay that I hate, but that feels like it's played out. Three things:

-I walked kind of a lot today. about an hour and a half, all told.

-FUCK TEQUILA. OK NO SRSLY.

-I'm starting to see the results of my completely low-impact muscle-toning regimen in my abs. As in, I actually have them now.

Also, I took my first multivitamin in about five years today. I'd been talking about having a vitamin d deficiency, but I think i may have been underestimating, because about an hour after I took it I felt kind of afuckingmazing. I was alert and content and all sorts of good things; this being a striking contrast to how i was feeling beforehand (hungover and morose about having been a Depressing Donny the night before, and having forgotten to eat for two days).

So now of course, the idea has been bubbling in my head that perhaps the reason why I can get so crazy and weird sometimes is because I take such terrible care of my body.

A great example of this is the A. situation. we're not talking for a while, this was decided yesterday. A while is defined as about five days, because I expressed a desire to finally see what it's like to have a valentine- and yes it's terrible and shamelessly corporate, but know your enemy, right? So after he left yesterday I did the show and got increasingly depressed. Went to the merc, got more depressed. Ended up getting as close to emotional as I get after I got home and threw my (empty) guts out. Today, I felt great about it. The whole reason this thing was so appealing to me is that it was dating by zen. No effort, no expectation, everything just worked. And these last couple of weeks, I've been actually making an effort, which goes against the whole spirit of the arrangement.

So, I'm going to try dating by zen again and bolster it with better living through chemistry. We'll see how it goes.

tl;dr: vitamins are like really good drugs from nature and lead to you being satisfied with a logical arangement.