(no subject)
my weekend went to pot, mostly. friday day time was lovely. i met roser for tea, & then met jess for shopping & coffee.
i should've not bothered going out friday night. my awesome friends were incredibly miserable & sulked all fucking night, then pissed off & ditched me. luckily i had mikey there. so stayed in manchester with him until the first bus home. we went to some AWFUL gay bar, where i temporarily lost my pocket watch & was gutted. luckily mikey found it. he's a king. someone tried to steal his phone with the worst mug attempt ever.
mugger: give me your phone.
mikey: you don't want it. it's shit.
mugger: alright then.
EFFORT + 1.
stood outside a dodgy cafe until it opened, shouting "breakfast! breakfast!" at the window. it was liberating when they finally let us in. the breakfast was nice, but unfortunately i hardly ate any of it due to being so tired. but yeah, what i ate was good. i had a couple of hours sleep when i finally got in, before james demanded i go visit him.
so the gig for the saturday night... well, there were four bands playing, the last two were the ones we went for. so what happens? the police come to the place after the first two bands & shut the venue for noise polution. aparently the building didn't have a performance license. so the gig ended & we all had to leave. i thought, the night's not over yet... but it turned out james wasn't feeling too healthy & had a headache which was turning him into a terrible grump. so the night died abruptly.
so overall, i spent MUCH MORE money than i should have, & now i'm worried about money AGAIN. two days after i've been paid. it's ridiculous. & the two days holiday from work weren't as planned or hoped. they could have been MUCH worse. i just feel i've wasted so much money on things to just go crap.
also, i had a hair cut. some people say it looks nice, but basically, i have hardly any fringe, or hair in general, & i look like a man. i feel very unpretty. no wonder i feel so fucking threatened by pretty girls. yeah, we have blunt fringes, chin length hair, bright red lipstick on even when it makes us look like twats, we can wear heals, because we're small in height, so don't look ridiculously giant. we can pull off looking like a doll of somekind. where i just look like i'm fucking dying of something because i'm always looking tired, because i'm too fucking angry about everything to get any sleep, & too worried about people to not constantly have to check up on wether they're ok, or wether they're considering going for a dance in the road after drinking their own body weight in whiskey. constantly worrying about money. worrying that i've made wrong choices again, or that i'm going to fuck up my whole uni thing AGAIN, just because 'i get sad' in autumn. worrying i'm not actually heading in the right direction, & convinced i'm being taken for a ride by everyone. & worrying about all this, & complaining about it only does what i least want to do - drive people away. but christ. talking from experience, can ye fucking blame my worry of most things? probably.
someone's kicking in.
i should've not bothered going out friday night. my awesome friends were incredibly miserable & sulked all fucking night, then pissed off & ditched me. luckily i had mikey there. so stayed in manchester with him until the first bus home. we went to some AWFUL gay bar, where i temporarily lost my pocket watch & was gutted. luckily mikey found it. he's a king. someone tried to steal his phone with the worst mug attempt ever.
mugger: give me your phone.
mikey: you don't want it. it's shit.
mugger: alright then.
EFFORT + 1.
stood outside a dodgy cafe until it opened, shouting "breakfast! breakfast!" at the window. it was liberating when they finally let us in. the breakfast was nice, but unfortunately i hardly ate any of it due to being so tired. but yeah, what i ate was good. i had a couple of hours sleep when i finally got in, before james demanded i go visit him.
so the gig for the saturday night... well, there were four bands playing, the last two were the ones we went for. so what happens? the police come to the place after the first two bands & shut the venue for noise polution. aparently the building didn't have a performance license. so the gig ended & we all had to leave. i thought, the night's not over yet... but it turned out james wasn't feeling too healthy & had a headache which was turning him into a terrible grump. so the night died abruptly.
so overall, i spent MUCH MORE money than i should have, & now i'm worried about money AGAIN. two days after i've been paid. it's ridiculous. & the two days holiday from work weren't as planned or hoped. they could have been MUCH worse. i just feel i've wasted so much money on things to just go crap.
also, i had a hair cut. some people say it looks nice, but basically, i have hardly any fringe, or hair in general, & i look like a man. i feel very unpretty. no wonder i feel so fucking threatened by pretty girls. yeah, we have blunt fringes, chin length hair, bright red lipstick on even when it makes us look like twats, we can wear heals, because we're small in height, so don't look ridiculously giant. we can pull off looking like a doll of somekind. where i just look like i'm fucking dying of something because i'm always looking tired, because i'm too fucking angry about everything to get any sleep, & too worried about people to not constantly have to check up on wether they're ok, or wether they're considering going for a dance in the road after drinking their own body weight in whiskey. constantly worrying about money. worrying that i've made wrong choices again, or that i'm going to fuck up my whole uni thing AGAIN, just because 'i get sad' in autumn. worrying i'm not actually heading in the right direction, & convinced i'm being taken for a ride by everyone. & worrying about all this, & complaining about it only does what i least want to do - drive people away. but christ. talking from experience, can ye fucking blame my worry of most things? probably.
someone's kicking in.