we looked like giants

I used to love that song, back when I was in my über-Deathcab phase and would listen to nothing but that and Radiohead. Oh, middle school, you plague me to this day.
Well.
Got back from a house party a few blocks down, and frankly I am a little disappointed in the people around me. All the kids there were only there trying to get drunk or get laid, and I definitely wasn’t gonna do either (first one: parents would laugh as I puke my guts out the next morning, then punish me senseless, second one: not now, thanks.) I ended up beasting out on Smash Bros Melee (only because I was the only sober one in the place.), which was nice. Someone brought a joint and was smoking it outside…
I left at ten.
I am not a party person to begin with, and that shindig wrenched me quite forcibly out of my preferred spectrum. Well, at least I got some music-talk into there- there was a girl (Skye?) that knew who Cold War Kids and Arcade Fire were, which lessened my growing apprehension. A bit.
Well- I feel bad for lettin’ you down, Ryan, but I already said yes and wasn’t about to go back on my word- hope you understand.
Also, I discovered:
Jagermeister is VILE. Do not drink it under any circumstance other than trying to kill your tastebuds with cold alcoholic cough syrup. Bleh. I would much rather prefer a nice red wine. (If I had to choose an alcoholic drink, it’d be wine. I like wine. A lot.)

Gonna try and sleep, my eyelids are getting heavy. Night.

_sleepyhead.

the prophet’s tower

Oh, life.

Been thinking lately about some real deep existentialist stuff- I continually have terrible little personal crises at parties (actually, hold the previous thought, I want to talk about why I have these crises to begin with).
Basically, my greatest fear is being forgotten, closely followed by being rejected, closely followed by being ignored, closely followed by hand gore and heights.
Basically, I can’t take it when I’m at a party and feel like a third wheel the entire time, constantly circling around several groups of friends but never really fitting in. You know that Cake song, World Of Two? It was written about a couple, but I like the lyrics: “I don’t want to/hang around you/I don’t want to live in your world/of two.”
That is how it feels: like orbiting closely, but never actually getting close enough to make contact. Thus I fall into this rut of thought:
“oh, noone wants to talk to me. That must mean I’m uninteresting. No one wants to speak to an uninteresting lazy-ass bitch, now do they? Cos that’s what I am, a lazy-ass bitch fackface with no talent and no charisma. No wonder I don’t have a boyfriend! No one wants to date a fat lazy-ass bitch fackface with a lisp and a bit of an acne problem and questionable intelligence who spits when she talks and can’t hold up her end of a conversation about Arcade Fire. Look at Mr. Charisma over there. No way he’d consider me. I am worthless. My life is a ball of mush.”
Thankfully, this scenario seems to be happening less and less now that I am realizing that most dudes are jerks and I should be glad they aren’t hitting on me, as 1. It would probably terrify me, and 2. I would probably dissolve into a puddle upon the ground and slurp away.
Not very pleasing ideas.
But I’m glad I’m getting past this dependance on others, even though Lillian knows I am still ridiculously dependent on her (as she continuously pretends she is no longer speaking to me, which shatters my heart a little every time, but she makes up for it by giving me Nutella), as does Genna. I define myself principally by the people around me. I do not act the same in any given circumstance twice. I am a aocial being, despite at first seeming like an introvert. I am quiet around people I want to impress but think I can’t, as well as people much older than me who I don’t know well. I dislike speaking impromptu to people I do not know.
I am now going to go sleep because frankly this post is very selfabsorbed and my eyes are getting heavier as I type.
Bakfhehwmaudhdmsldjhfjsksjh.
Goodnight.

and i turned round- and there you go!

Things change quickly.
For instance: a group of friends (including me) have been planning this party for a little over a month now. A few days ago, the person who was going to host said party had to back out (he asked the wrong parent) and a backup was quickly found. Problem is, now said backup cannot host either, so we must wait until next week to have a party. Not that terrible in the whole scheme of things, but come on.

I’m overreacting, I know. It just bothers me when people abandon things last-minute.

And and- I may ask Hove. I’ll wait a few days- but- I am 50% sure I’m going to.

Tonight: gonna play some guitar, do a few midnight drabbles, maybe draw a little bit (just sketches), write a little.

Hopefully your plans work out, as mine usually don’t.

holdumst í hendur

Hummus is ridiculous when you have a crappy blender and a short attention span. Dayum. I currently have tahini all over my jeans, I need to do some laundry. Maybe later.
Anyway. I keep remembering the dream with Taschen, I am starting to wish it was reality (probably not) and so I will…I will… Uh, I will do something. There.
Oh, and on the 23rd Wil’s hosting a party where we will watch Tarantino movies and go glazed-over and slackjawed at his immense CD collection. And manga collection. This party is third in a series that we are having, our goal is to have one every month. So far we’ve had November and December. I’ve claimed hostage for February, we’ll see how that goes.
I put Takk… in my CD player today. I’ve logged about five plays so far. Oh jeezus. I like this record because I don’t have to listen to the lyrics; it is passive. The opposite would probably be Of Montreal. Kevin Barnes really has something to share with us, I guess. (Besides the fact that he is one crazy mofo.) Jonsí, however, doesn’t force his lyrics on you. (And I don’t speak Icelandic anyway, so what do I know?)

Probly gonna play bass for a few hours, I need to learn some new songs. Any suggestions?

we’ve come a long way

For the record, this is post 101. Can you say “awesome”?
Also, I woke up at five this morning because my head was on something uncomfortable, aka the notebook I write my midnight drabbles in. This is the second time this week it’s happened. Jeez.
But I did get about a page and a half of readable words, so here they are:
========
Odin’s sleep apneA beauty in the form of the psychoanalytic pretentious eletists (sic)- you know my mind is a fragile person but our past is breaking along with the sage of the mountain folk our dearest nave, know our terror lovely spoon, taste the rich delicious soup taste oh our one seeing mead god +love the norse mythology tee most, kittens segment on the nave monday anger in a set on high mary
Our own neverending story shout loud sweet nothings to the winds
Bortglomt thinks and the terrible day we fool there are you bulling us tree
The othello…mansion…or r
===========
I fell asleep. The last line is nearly incomprehensible, but I tried to read it. Without success.

So, last night’s party was quite magnificent, albeit with a lack of dancing (fine with me). Jake, the non-acquaintance one, suddenly appeared, much to my surprise. He’s lucky he didn’t stay in New England. I heard about the blizzard, good luck to all you up there.
So! There was much talking, I melted some chocolate over a double boiler, Jamesey discussed the benefits of wearing preposterously large boots, Ryan used me as a footstool, Kaitlyn mistook Korean for Peruvian (somehow!), Kyle headbutted me three times then suddenly felt terrible about it and gave me a hug…
It was a good party. Had a lot of fun. Would go again, five stars.

Pfft.

well, thinkin’ about what I wanna do today, but nothin’s really exploding in my face at the moment. I’ve got to draw some more stuff for Pride Of The Magi, but that’s about it, really…