Lagoon Monster Love

In the past two (maybe three) days,

I have barely been on the internet. I feel terrible. I don’t think I’m exhibiting withdrawal symptoms at all, but I constantly feel like I’m missing out on everything in the world. The silly thing is that I’ve actually been hanging out with real people that I love, and I still feel like I’m missing out on something. Fuck you, internet. Look what you’ve done to my perspective! My experiences feel incomplete without you!

I feel weird not being on AIM, too. Yeah, I’ve been on on my phone, but I feel like I get IMs SUPER late. I mean, maybe an hour or two hours late. Unacceptable, T-Mobile; how am I supposed to talk to people on the internet and ignore people in real life if you can’t connect me! ALSO, last night, I actually got some sleep! I fell asleep at 10 pm and woke up at 6 am. You know, like a normal fucking person.

I guess the point of this post is just to express how much I love the internet, and how much I hate being without it. So… pointless post time!

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So, I’ve been moping since about 9pm last night. I suppose that’s good enough. I just have a few things to clear up:

If someone says that they love you, but spend an entire night either making you feel like a “super-bitch” or making you feel so terrible about your life that they come super close to convincing you that they are your “best option”, even though you’ve established you want out… well, do I really need to say it?

I guess what I want to say to him can be summed up pretty easily now that my mind is clearer: Eat my ass, man.

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“Da sickness”

I am quite ill. Basically I feel like ripping my face off and manually cleansing my sinuses, and taking a nice little dose of Tylenol #3 with Codeine (which I actually have ahaha yeeeessss!). You’re welcome for the visual, by the way.

So I picked my [exhausted] body up and went to Walgreens and rented Red Riding Hood (I reeeally hope it’s good), and got myself some microwavable soup (because I am not about to stand in front of the stove in the state I’m in, to make a meal I don’t even like), which I will chug like a champ because I hate soup. Yeah, I said it. Soup sucks. I also got some of those super handy numbing lozenges. Which is awesome because now I won’t have to feel my throat for a while. 

Oh! I made sure to pick up some shitty reading material. In this case, it’s not so bad; I got the new Vanity Fair issue, and they have printed some of Earnest Hemingway’s lost love letters! So there’s all that.

I don’t know why I wrote this. I feel like I may have taken too much Sudafed. Maybe, but I can’t be sure until they pump my stomach or I pass out. 

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Where have I been?

Oh, I don’t know. Rehearsing and performing 2 student playwright showcases, taking 18 credits (that’s 6 classes, hi), working double what everyone else does at work, tending to wigs and such for my drag queen friends, writing about Ingrid Bergman, relaxing with friends, and having fun with boys. 

That’s where.

My life is really different now. I don’t know how to explain it, because, really, very little has changed. Maybe it’s me that has changed? Who knows for sure. I can’t really make up my mind if this is all good or bad, but I’m enjoying it. 

So, hello, tumblr! I’ve returned!

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The New Year’s Effect

You know that “New Year’s Effect” that plagues most people this time of year (“I’m going to be different now,” “I’m going to change this,” blah blah blah)? I don’t feel it this year. I actually have no unrealistic expectations for 2012, no change I will beat myself up for not making. I really like this. 

2011 kicked my ass pretty hard, and I’m going to be spending the night alone with my ex, and I’m still just as foolish and fat and not-Kate-Winslet-y as I was last year… and for once I feel like this fucking rocks!

Happy New Year! May 2012 bring you absolute joy and great satisfaction!

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Ranting at 3am, like an old man.

I should open up a charm school. It wouldn’t even be like, old time-y manners or anything. It would just be for these idiot kids that somehow end up in my house, coming in and out as they please at 2am, calling 6 times at 3am, taking shit from my bathroom, crying in my living room because their boyfriend left them because they’re too ugly/fat/whatever, and just being ignorant, rude, and uneducated overall. 

I should recruit a team, like scientists, writers, thinkers, creative people, and they would just whip these kids into people of high esteem. People who have ideas, people whose ideology defines their sexuality (and not the other way around), people who make art and facilitate change, people who don’t cease to be free or have fun when youth escapes them. You know, people whose lives will amount to more than whatever the outcome is when they hike their skirts up in a dirty bathroom stall (which is always either loss of dignity or pregnancy… just sayin’). 

I know I sound like a real bitch right now, but I genuinely don’t give a shit feel a strong sense of anger and despair for the future when I see these kids… and when they wake me up at 3am when I have a 10-hour day tomorrow, because they’re tragically fucking dumb. 

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