i'm popeye the sailor man
Feeling a little glum right this second; can't say why, really. Probably PMS, actually I'm feeling some crampage as I write this. Ugggggh.
Looking for an apartment is annoying; having to deal with some shady-ass motherfuckers and whatnot. Hopefully I can get WHN to come with me to check out places. It's kind of creepy, you never know who's a serial killer and who's not.
I'm probably just tired from my weekend so far. I got a LOT of action. I broke my "no going out with WHN" rule because quite frankly, I'm using him and we both know it. I called him drunk twice this weekend and we hung out.
I really didn't spend that much money this weekend but had significant amounts of fun. I could be getting better at mooching. Friday I hit an open mic and got a little drunk, then booty-called WHN. Actually then we went to Lincoln Park (remember that place?). There's this whole Hell's Kitchen circle that WHN is a part of and it's kind of fun-since I don't really have that many friends and all-to feel like I know a lot of people. I see these same people a lot, they were all at Lincoln Park.
So more drinking, and I met this guy who works at a major studio and is supposedly becoming an A&R rep for a major label. I think I've figured out that the best way to meet important people is to go to bars near their workplaces. Anyway, WHN was macking on him hardcore, being the networker that he is, and then when he went to potty I swooped in. The studio guy gave me his card (although I have to fucking find the thing) and told me to invite him to my show. And he pretty much asked me out even though I was there with WHN, ha ha, guys are funny like that I'm noticing. You could be MAKING OUT with someone and they'll still give you the eye. I doubt he'll come to my show, but I'm sure this connection will prove handy in the future.
And out of nowhere he gave me a box of Herbal Essences Highlighting kit. I had been bitching all evening to WHN about how my hair needs highlights. I'm telling you, shit just FINDS me!
Then on Saturday I played at my friend Jenn's birthday party. More drinking (free mostly!), then a diner and another booty-call. I met up with WHN and his friend Bill. Bill gets his heart broken like every five seconds because he just can't play the game. There was some drama about his ex-girlfriend showing up there on her birthday and blah blah blah but Bill at least stood up for himself. Then he started to go on and on about how nice this other girl Cecilia was, and you just know that he leaps from crush to crush and likes getting his heart beaten to a bloody pulp.
Then to WHN's. Maybe it's because he'd been drinking, but it lasted FOREVER and I felt like I was going to die by the end. Really I thought I was going to pass out at some point. Is it possible to die from sex? I'm sure. I am a likely candidate. Anyway, it's hard to imagine how that sort of thing can be good for you, but I do look a lot better when I'm getting laid regularly.
WHN and I had this huge discussion about Popeye the Sailor Man. WHN had a problem with Olive Oil cause she always waffled between Popeye and Bruno.
I said, "Well, a girl's gotta play hard-to-get."
"Yeah, but all the time?!"
"Well, she's got to keep Popeye on his toes. Obviously it's working. He's a sailor, but does he have some Soy Sauce in another port? I don't think so."
I don't think we were just talking about Popeye anymore. It was really funny. Like I play hard-to-get, sha. I'm just a bitch sometimes. Eh, maybe it's the same thing.
Looking for an apartment is annoying; having to deal with some shady-ass motherfuckers and whatnot. Hopefully I can get WHN to come with me to check out places. It's kind of creepy, you never know who's a serial killer and who's not.
I'm probably just tired from my weekend so far. I got a LOT of action. I broke my "no going out with WHN" rule because quite frankly, I'm using him and we both know it. I called him drunk twice this weekend and we hung out.
I really didn't spend that much money this weekend but had significant amounts of fun. I could be getting better at mooching. Friday I hit an open mic and got a little drunk, then booty-called WHN. Actually then we went to Lincoln Park (remember that place?). There's this whole Hell's Kitchen circle that WHN is a part of and it's kind of fun-since I don't really have that many friends and all-to feel like I know a lot of people. I see these same people a lot, they were all at Lincoln Park.
So more drinking, and I met this guy who works at a major studio and is supposedly becoming an A&R rep for a major label. I think I've figured out that the best way to meet important people is to go to bars near their workplaces. Anyway, WHN was macking on him hardcore, being the networker that he is, and then when he went to potty I swooped in. The studio guy gave me his card (although I have to fucking find the thing) and told me to invite him to my show. And he pretty much asked me out even though I was there with WHN, ha ha, guys are funny like that I'm noticing. You could be MAKING OUT with someone and they'll still give you the eye. I doubt he'll come to my show, but I'm sure this connection will prove handy in the future.
And out of nowhere he gave me a box of Herbal Essences Highlighting kit. I had been bitching all evening to WHN about how my hair needs highlights. I'm telling you, shit just FINDS me!
Then on Saturday I played at my friend Jenn's birthday party. More drinking (free mostly!), then a diner and another booty-call. I met up with WHN and his friend Bill. Bill gets his heart broken like every five seconds because he just can't play the game. There was some drama about his ex-girlfriend showing up there on her birthday and blah blah blah but Bill at least stood up for himself. Then he started to go on and on about how nice this other girl Cecilia was, and you just know that he leaps from crush to crush and likes getting his heart beaten to a bloody pulp.
Then to WHN's. Maybe it's because he'd been drinking, but it lasted FOREVER and I felt like I was going to die by the end. Really I thought I was going to pass out at some point. Is it possible to die from sex? I'm sure. I am a likely candidate. Anyway, it's hard to imagine how that sort of thing can be good for you, but I do look a lot better when I'm getting laid regularly.
WHN and I had this huge discussion about Popeye the Sailor Man. WHN had a problem with Olive Oil cause she always waffled between Popeye and Bruno.
I said, "Well, a girl's gotta play hard-to-get."
"Yeah, but all the time?!"
"Well, she's got to keep Popeye on his toes. Obviously it's working. He's a sailor, but does he have some Soy Sauce in another port? I don't think so."
I don't think we were just talking about Popeye anymore. It was really funny. Like I play hard-to-get, sha. I'm just a bitch sometimes. Eh, maybe it's the same thing.