Don't need the sunshine, don't need the good times, don't need anything anyone's giving.
I did, as a matter of fact, have a lot of fun at the party. A lot of fun, actually. One of the hostesses is the oldest of old friends - her parents and the InnerRents used to go drinking together when they were young up-and-comers in Nodnol during the sixties. Anyway, she invited me to this party via Facebook, and I thought "what the hell?" and went along.
The advantage of Hallowe'en, of course, is I already have the outfit: corset, fishtail skirt, Maleficient cape and staff with a knob on the end. Sorted.
Did prompt some statements like "you've really gone all out of the outfit, haven't you?" To which, "uh no, these are just my clothes." I avoided such temptations as "you've got secret goth tendencies, haven't you?", and "I know this is only a fancy dress outfit, but it's lovely". I only mentioned my girlfriend by 'girlfriend' once. I didn't start comparing various pop culture vampire 'lore' when it was offered, and the only TV show I talked about was Friends (people ask me what I do, it came up). Also, only once did someone mention that palaeontology was a kids science.
It was a lot of fun, but I don't think I could pretend to be normal for much longer. What do normal people do when the booze stops flowing.
Anyway, got home, then got emo, went to bed, had a day long hangover yesterday.
The Bra-S-Lette in question was the first piece of retro underwear I owned: a sort of present to myself after breaking up with Rob. It was boned, but not tight laced, and gave an hourglass silhouette. I could also wear it for hours and not suffer breathing issues. S'was nice.
Now the zip's finally given up the ghost and the pull-thing's broken and the teeth get stuck, and grah. Looks like the thing's dead.Which makes me sad for sentimental reasons as well as the fact that under normal circumstances I'd replace it in a heartbeat (except it's discontinued) and now - I can't. Meh.
Also, I've just been generally depressed all weekend. Today is better.
From Nny:
1. Tell me one thing you love about me.
2. Tell me two things you love about yourself. No self-deprecation allowed!
3. Look through the comments - when you see someone you know, tell them three things you love about them.
4. Do this in your journal.
The advantage of Hallowe'en, of course, is I already have the outfit: corset, fishtail skirt, Maleficient cape and staff with a knob on the end. Sorted.
Did prompt some statements like "you've really gone all out of the outfit, haven't you?" To which, "uh no, these are just my clothes." I avoided such temptations as "you've got secret goth tendencies, haven't you?", and "I know this is only a fancy dress outfit, but it's lovely". I only mentioned my girlfriend by 'girlfriend' once. I didn't start comparing various pop culture vampire 'lore' when it was offered, and the only TV show I talked about was Friends (people ask me what I do, it came up). Also, only once did someone mention that palaeontology was a kids science.
It was a lot of fun, but I don't think I could pretend to be normal for much longer. What do normal people do when the booze stops flowing.
Anyway, got home, then got emo, went to bed, had a day long hangover yesterday.
The Bra-S-Lette in question was the first piece of retro underwear I owned: a sort of present to myself after breaking up with Rob. It was boned, but not tight laced, and gave an hourglass silhouette. I could also wear it for hours and not suffer breathing issues. S'was nice.
Now the zip's finally given up the ghost and the pull-thing's broken and the teeth get stuck, and grah. Looks like the thing's dead.Which makes me sad for sentimental reasons as well as the fact that under normal circumstances I'd replace it in a heartbeat (except it's discontinued) and now - I can't. Meh.
Also, I've just been generally depressed all weekend. Today is better.
From Nny:
1. Tell me one thing you love about me.
2. Tell me two things you love about yourself. No self-deprecation allowed!
3. Look through the comments - when you see someone you know, tell them three things you love about them.
4. Do this in your journal.