(no subject)
My friend Doug called me the other night--he's thinking of coming home, which for him is Ithaca, for the entire week of Thanksgiving break, which is the week following this one. Meaning he'll be home a week from now.
I can't even remember the last time I saw him. We hung out all the time when we were in college together, and then he transferred to Cornell University and I saw less of him, BUT THEN HE GOT A CAR and the whole fabulous world of Ithaca was opened up to the both of us to explore during the wee hours. Of course, for us, this exploration was usually fairly limited: we snuck into movies, drove around Collegetown, went to Applebee's, got bubble tea, and went dancing at the gay club. But he's one of, like, two friends that I have left that I still feel close to in a way other than just "oh I've known that person for like 10 years". He's not a complete old fart yet; he still wants to go out and have fun. He even keeps trying to convince me to move to New York City with him once he graduates, because he knows how stifling small towns can be. (And he lives in Ithaca! Magical, wondrous Ithaca that I love!)
So, yeah, he wants me to meet him down there so we can go out and paint the town flamingly gay pink again. And this naturally includes going dancing at Common Ground.
I HAVEN'T DANCED IN AGES. The only thing I've been doing is sitting around, hunched over a keyboard, shaking my head side-to-side like some kind of idiot. I used to dance around the house all the time when my mom wasn't here, but that hasn't happened in probably a year now. I'm so out of practice. Mom was at work the other day and I put on one of my CDs while I fixed myself some supper, and "Too Funky" by George Michael came on which is one of my faaaaavorites (shut up, lol), and I like, didn't know what to do with myself.
Not that I ever looked fabulous dancing to begin with, haha, but you know... I used to be more confident in my abilities, and frankly didn't care as long as I was having fun. I still have that mentality, but the self-consciousness usually wins out because it is fucking brutal. Haha. And now I've only got like, a week to prepare myself. Gaaaah.
Maybe if I have a couple beers and am surrounded by other people, it won't be so bad. Hopefully the place is crammed whatever night we go.
On a weirder note, as I was falling asleep last night, this random phrase kind of invaded my consciousness for a brief second. It was a guy's voice, and he was saying:
"There's nothing wrong with my earlobes, and I stretched them with a fucking strawberry."
I was kind of taken aback for a second, and then I laughed my ass off. What the fuck? I don't even know where that came from. But now I can't stop imagining some dude trying to stretch his ears with a strawberry.
*shakes head*
I can't even remember the last time I saw him. We hung out all the time when we were in college together, and then he transferred to Cornell University and I saw less of him, BUT THEN HE GOT A CAR and the whole fabulous world of Ithaca was opened up to the both of us to explore during the wee hours. Of course, for us, this exploration was usually fairly limited: we snuck into movies, drove around Collegetown, went to Applebee's, got bubble tea, and went dancing at the gay club. But he's one of, like, two friends that I have left that I still feel close to in a way other than just "oh I've known that person for like 10 years". He's not a complete old fart yet; he still wants to go out and have fun. He even keeps trying to convince me to move to New York City with him once he graduates, because he knows how stifling small towns can be. (And he lives in Ithaca! Magical, wondrous Ithaca that I love!)
So, yeah, he wants me to meet him down there so we can go out and paint the town flamingly gay pink again. And this naturally includes going dancing at Common Ground.
I HAVEN'T DANCED IN AGES. The only thing I've been doing is sitting around, hunched over a keyboard, shaking my head side-to-side like some kind of idiot. I used to dance around the house all the time when my mom wasn't here, but that hasn't happened in probably a year now. I'm so out of practice. Mom was at work the other day and I put on one of my CDs while I fixed myself some supper, and "Too Funky" by George Michael came on which is one of my faaaaavorites (shut up, lol), and I like, didn't know what to do with myself.
Not that I ever looked fabulous dancing to begin with, haha, but you know... I used to be more confident in my abilities, and frankly didn't care as long as I was having fun. I still have that mentality, but the self-consciousness usually wins out because it is fucking brutal. Haha. And now I've only got like, a week to prepare myself. Gaaaah.
Maybe if I have a couple beers and am surrounded by other people, it won't be so bad. Hopefully the place is crammed whatever night we go.
On a weirder note, as I was falling asleep last night, this random phrase kind of invaded my consciousness for a brief second. It was a guy's voice, and he was saying:
"There's nothing wrong with my earlobes, and I stretched them with a fucking strawberry."
I was kind of taken aback for a second, and then I laughed my ass off. What the fuck? I don't even know where that came from. But now I can't stop imagining some dude trying to stretch his ears with a strawberry.
*shakes head*