(no subject)
Matt Spastic's 36th birthday last night, Zombie Style.
It was too much food and beer and talk and music and bikelocks and awkward and questions and zombies and people I didn't know but I had much fun anyhow. I have to say, I LOVE MANDI. Honestly, not only do I think she's really good for Matt, she's just an awesome person in her own right, which I hold a lot of value in a person being impressive because they're impressive, not because they're with someone impressive.
Last week, Josa came over and we met Suze at Palette and watched Ciao! Manhattan while we ate pizza and there was nothing about those moments that were me, but I enjoyed those moments not being mine in a way I can't really describe.
It bothers me that spellcheck doesn't let me make my own compound words. It even said I spelled "spellcheck" wrong which is fucked on so many levels.
I need a job. I need swimming. I need a Blueberry Cosmo from Switch. I need for you assholes to come over and see our new bar and get "hyphy" as the young folks say these days. I need help making my apartment pretty. I need to get rid of some clothes.
Oh yes, Amber brought me fifteen bags of clothes that she was getting rid of. How exciting for me, as I am currently wearing one of the sweaters she gave me because Harley likes to sleep in Polar Bear weather. OH OHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH that reminds me: Yesterday, Harley painted his face to look like a skeleton for Matt's party, and I promised I wouldn't point out to everyone that he looked like a panda bear. And I didn't at the party, which is why I feel it necessary to mention it now: LAST NIGHT HARLEY LOOKED LIKE A PANDA BEAR AND IT WAS THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.
I miss Natalie. Stupid Natalie and her popcorn and beef jerky and green dishes and underage wine-ing and that one voice I can't replicate in my head but if I heard it I would know it and my cheeks would immediately turn pink from smiling. I long for mornings outside with her and Rhema and coffee.
Holgas is not the same. It hasn't been for a long time. No one there has the slightest clue of the ten-year legacy they're living in and exactly how much amazing art and how many amazing artists used to be housed in those walls. What's worse is they don't even care.
It was too much food and beer and talk and music and bikelocks and awkward and questions and zombies and people I didn't know but I had much fun anyhow. I have to say, I LOVE MANDI. Honestly, not only do I think she's really good for Matt, she's just an awesome person in her own right, which I hold a lot of value in a person being impressive because they're impressive, not because they're with someone impressive.
Last week, Josa came over and we met Suze at Palette and watched Ciao! Manhattan while we ate pizza and there was nothing about those moments that were me, but I enjoyed those moments not being mine in a way I can't really describe.
It bothers me that spellcheck doesn't let me make my own compound words. It even said I spelled "spellcheck" wrong which is fucked on so many levels.
I need a job. I need swimming. I need a Blueberry Cosmo from Switch. I need for you assholes to come over and see our new bar and get "hyphy" as the young folks say these days. I need help making my apartment pretty. I need to get rid of some clothes.
Oh yes, Amber brought me fifteen bags of clothes that she was getting rid of. How exciting for me, as I am currently wearing one of the sweaters she gave me because Harley likes to sleep in Polar Bear weather. OH OHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH that reminds me: Yesterday, Harley painted his face to look like a skeleton for Matt's party, and I promised I wouldn't point out to everyone that he looked like a panda bear. And I didn't at the party, which is why I feel it necessary to mention it now: LAST NIGHT HARLEY LOOKED LIKE A PANDA BEAR AND IT WAS THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.
I miss Natalie. Stupid Natalie and her popcorn and beef jerky and green dishes and underage wine-ing and that one voice I can't replicate in my head but if I heard it I would know it and my cheeks would immediately turn pink from smiling. I long for mornings outside with her and Rhema and coffee.
Holgas is not the same. It hasn't been for a long time. No one there has the slightest clue of the ten-year legacy they're living in and exactly how much amazing art and how many amazing artists used to be housed in those walls. What's worse is they don't even care.