Okay, so... I have to preface this entry with an announcement: I have had a six pack of assorted alcoholic beverages in the past two hours. Actually, that explains why I'm not that drunk, because I usually consume that much in a much shorter period of time. Anyway, that said, my head's a little buzzy, but... that's it. Boo :(
People have been so interesting recently. I passed a woman (I think) on Christopher a while back, wearing entirely denim (bell-bottoms, no less), who was walking extremely deliberately, placing one foot directly in front of the other and not really moving anywhere fast. She (or he, if it was a man... or maybe she if it was a transvestite... hmm) was kind of adorable and I smiled at her from behind, even if the cute guy walking towards us laughed at her. It's cool, I almost did too.
Anyway, it's been a theater-filled and boy-less weekend, which I'm actually really okay with. Thursday and Friday were drunken blurs, so they're not really worth talking about (let's just say that a coked up boy hit on me and I politely... um, left, and I made out with a female friend with whom I hadn't before) but the rest of the weekend was lovely. I sort of... skipped Friday night, by which I mean the sleep part, so Saturday morning some friends and I headed up to the Park to wait in line for tickets to the 40th anniversary concert of Hair. Long story short because I'm tired... the line was long and we got wet and we got tickets and the show was unexpectedly awesome and Jon Groff has defffffffinitely gained weight since the last time I saw him. Boo hoo. Anyway, to answer literally HALF of the keyword searches that have led people to this blog, YES JONATHAN GROFF IS GAY. HE'S A BIG OLD HOMO AND HE'S GAY. JON GROFF IS GAY. DEAL WITH IT, SPRING AWAKENING FANGIRLS. HE WILL ALLLLWAYS LIKE ME BETTER THAN YOU.
Whew. That felt good. Anyway, the show was PHENOMENAL and then, having not slept the night before, I passed out around 12:30 am. Talk about geezerly early. Then this afternoon, my aunt and I went to The Ritz at Studio 54, which was... good. Hahah, that clearly comes with several asterisks. It was clearly an early preview, as shown by the teeeny off-ness of the timing, and Rosie Perez's accent was... okay, a WEE bit incomprehensible, and the set was clearly too big (porn stars in briefs and boots standing around as symmetry is fantastic, but if you need them to fill up the set, it's kind of a sign), but overall there were a ton of laughs and Rosie's big musical number was AMAZING. Thank youuuu Seth Rudetsky. (Know who that is, and you'll have my undying respect and maybe a kiss on the cheek if I actually know who you are.)
Anyway, my roommate is trying to get to sleep, and my typing is annoying, soooo I'm gonna go. Anyway, in conclusion, spay or neuter your animals. Why? Because... I passed a ton of dogs on the street today and their balls CREEPED ME OUT. Thank you, and goodnight.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Monday, September 17, 2007
And I don't mind waiting if it takes a long long time...
Why am I awake? It's Monday morning, I drank half a bottle of wine last night, and I don't have class until two pm. By rights I should be asleep until at least eleven, but for some reason I woke up at eight and haven't been able to get back to sleep.
Whatever. At least it's one of those good mornings. Clear, sunny, a little bit cold, where everything seems fresh and you don't have anything recent to regret or coming up to dread.
Okay, so that's not entirely true, because on a Monday there's always plenty to dread, but (although I hate to say this so early in the semester) I actually really like my classes so far. In one, we're spending a full three-week unit on learning the blues harmonica. As in our entire grade for those three weeks will be based on our performance at a harmonica recital. Crazy. In another, the professor hates lecturing, so we have a short lecture on Tuesday and then a long discussion on Thursday. Last week we ended up arguing about whether or not the current fad status of environmentalism could translate to a permanent awareness among the American public, as well as whether or not it could be enough to slow global warming.
Even the classes that aren't so fun have really awesome teachers. My journalism teacher is a staff writer for the Times (not to mention rather attractive), so... clearly he kind of knows what he's talking about. And my TA for my sociological research methods class (which was pretty much not going to be interesting no matter how you spin it) is basically amazing. Tall, gorgeous, (of course female, sadly), and a doctoral candidate writing her thesis on the commercialization of fashion models' "looks," which she researched during her three years as a model here in New York and in London. I want to be her.
Speaking of which, I love love love my contactssssss. Hahah, which is of course news to y'all, because I've NEVER mentioned them before or anything, but I've gotten so many good comments on them recently. Two different people said that I looked like a model. Of course, that's not even remotely true, but I like the idea of it, so I feel obligated to repeat it. Anyway, more realistically, people finally notice my (very blue) eyes, which I like, so... yeah, that's cool. Um... if you haven't yet read the last few sentences, skip them, but since you have... just don't judge me, I'm not making much sense.
Anyway, I need to get showered and shaved and over to campus, because it's too nice a day to be schlumphing around my room in a sweatshirt, so peace outttt until the next time I remember to post.
Whatever. At least it's one of those good mornings. Clear, sunny, a little bit cold, where everything seems fresh and you don't have anything recent to regret or coming up to dread.
Okay, so that's not entirely true, because on a Monday there's always plenty to dread, but (although I hate to say this so early in the semester) I actually really like my classes so far. In one, we're spending a full three-week unit on learning the blues harmonica. As in our entire grade for those three weeks will be based on our performance at a harmonica recital. Crazy. In another, the professor hates lecturing, so we have a short lecture on Tuesday and then a long discussion on Thursday. Last week we ended up arguing about whether or not the current fad status of environmentalism could translate to a permanent awareness among the American public, as well as whether or not it could be enough to slow global warming.
Even the classes that aren't so fun have really awesome teachers. My journalism teacher is a staff writer for the Times (not to mention rather attractive), so... clearly he kind of knows what he's talking about. And my TA for my sociological research methods class (which was pretty much not going to be interesting no matter how you spin it) is basically amazing. Tall, gorgeous, (of course female, sadly), and a doctoral candidate writing her thesis on the commercialization of fashion models' "looks," which she researched during her three years as a model here in New York and in London. I want to be her.
Speaking of which, I love love love my contactssssss. Hahah, which is of course news to y'all, because I've NEVER mentioned them before or anything, but I've gotten so many good comments on them recently. Two different people said that I looked like a model. Of course, that's not even remotely true, but I like the idea of it, so I feel obligated to repeat it. Anyway, more realistically, people finally notice my (very blue) eyes, which I like, so... yeah, that's cool. Um... if you haven't yet read the last few sentences, skip them, but since you have... just don't judge me, I'm not making much sense.
Anyway, I need to get showered and shaved and over to campus, because it's too nice a day to be schlumphing around my room in a sweatshirt, so peace outttt until the next time I remember to post.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Sexy sexy
It's been an interesting weekend. And by interesting, I mean quiet. It's Saturday night, and I'm in my pajamas, watching Dynasty. Season One, so no Joan Collins, but Pamela Sue Martin provides just enough bitchery for my taste. Last night... we did the same thing, except minus the going out with friends and having a few rounds first. Okay, so it's not quite thrilling, but... it's relaxing. Getting back into the swing of things has been a little different than I thought it would. It's amazing how much more planning everything takes when getting anywhere takes twenty minutes longer than it did before. Whatever, we're getting used to it, and... well, walking is more fun when you're drunk, anyway.
Damn. The latest boy is getting relationshippy. Which I swear, I'm not against in general, but... well, it's just not right in this case. I thought that the fact that I've had hickies from other boys on multiple occasions when hanging out slash hooking up with him would give him the right impression about what I want from our relationship (namely occasional hookups, occasional hanging out, and no obligation to call him every fucking weekend night), but apparently that's not the case. Last night... ugh. He showed up at my dorm and just "happened" to be hanging out in his friends' room down the hall, insisted on coming by to "say hi," and then WOULD. NOT. LEAVE. I mean, my roommate was in the room, asleep, I was getting into my pajamas, and he could NOT take a hint. Not to mention he "we"d me. As in while trying to make conversation, he referred to the empty bottle of Vitamin Water on my desk as "our" flavor because we'd both mentioned liking it. Ew.
So it would seem that I have to find a new boy, so I can use him to drive a wedge between myself and the current one. Damn. Why does everyone have to get so darn clingy? Why can't we all be satisfied with having three or so people with whom we hook up on a semi-regular basis? I don't really mean that, I'm really all for commitment and all that, it's just... not me. Not now, anyway. Whatever, it's NYU. Finding a new boy shouldn't be too hard.
Speaking of which, the roomie and I are working on a chart of all our hookups and, subsequently, their hookups (those we know of, at least) for our wall. It's pretty epic already, and we haven't even done any research into their interconnectivity. Once we do... damn. Which is my word of the moment. Damn, I'm sorry. But not. Whatevsssss. Anyway, Steven Carrington, the gay son, just kissed his stepmother's ex-lover's wife, who's been in a mental institution for years! I have to go. Gooodnight!
PS: I LOVE living two blocks from the river. Tanning in the park tomorrow afternoon? I think so!
Damn. The latest boy is getting relationshippy. Which I swear, I'm not against in general, but... well, it's just not right in this case. I thought that the fact that I've had hickies from other boys on multiple occasions when hanging out slash hooking up with him would give him the right impression about what I want from our relationship (namely occasional hookups, occasional hanging out, and no obligation to call him every fucking weekend night), but apparently that's not the case. Last night... ugh. He showed up at my dorm and just "happened" to be hanging out in his friends' room down the hall, insisted on coming by to "say hi," and then WOULD. NOT. LEAVE. I mean, my roommate was in the room, asleep, I was getting into my pajamas, and he could NOT take a hint. Not to mention he "we"d me. As in while trying to make conversation, he referred to the empty bottle of Vitamin Water on my desk as "our" flavor because we'd both mentioned liking it. Ew.
So it would seem that I have to find a new boy, so I can use him to drive a wedge between myself and the current one. Damn. Why does everyone have to get so darn clingy? Why can't we all be satisfied with having three or so people with whom we hook up on a semi-regular basis? I don't really mean that, I'm really all for commitment and all that, it's just... not me. Not now, anyway. Whatever, it's NYU. Finding a new boy shouldn't be too hard.
Speaking of which, the roomie and I are working on a chart of all our hookups and, subsequently, their hookups (those we know of, at least) for our wall. It's pretty epic already, and we haven't even done any research into their interconnectivity. Once we do... damn. Which is my word of the moment. Damn, I'm sorry. But not. Whatevsssss. Anyway, Steven Carrington, the gay son, just kissed his stepmother's ex-lover's wife, who's been in a mental institution for years! I have to go. Gooodnight!
PS: I LOVE living two blocks from the river. Tanning in the park tomorrow afternoon? I think so!
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Look for nirvana under the strobe lights...
Whew. Well, the first day of classes is underway, and so far I haven't killed myself! I mean, I was informed that I'm taking one class pretty much a year too early, but I have faith in my ability to conduct sociological research. Whatevs.
Anyway, talking about class is boring. My personal life is so much more fun! I'm very proud of myself for having, in a little over a week, hooked up with two boys, used one of them to convey to the other that I'm not in a relationship "place" right now, and even been solicited for sex by two couples. (Why is it that the people who want to have sex with me, few and far between as they are, always want to have threesomes? It ruins everything, because inevitably I would have sex with one, but not the other, and so the whole thing goes out the window. Dearie me.) Okay, so I still haven't done anything responsible like... cooking my first meal at home or buying all my textbooks, but give me hickeys and pretzel/hummus dinners over boring responsibility any day.
Well, I suppose I should take out the recycling... by which I mean clear out the massive pile of beer bottles and Red Bull cans that's currently covering my desk. And maybe some more hummus... mmmm, hummus. Anyway, peace out, y'all! Hope you're enjoying this disgustingly hot weather almost as much as my gross pit stains are!
Anyway, talking about class is boring. My personal life is so much more fun! I'm very proud of myself for having, in a little over a week, hooked up with two boys, used one of them to convey to the other that I'm not in a relationship "place" right now, and even been solicited for sex by two couples. (Why is it that the people who want to have sex with me, few and far between as they are, always want to have threesomes? It ruins everything, because inevitably I would have sex with one, but not the other, and so the whole thing goes out the window. Dearie me.) Okay, so I still haven't done anything responsible like... cooking my first meal at home or buying all my textbooks, but give me hickeys and pretzel/hummus dinners over boring responsibility any day.
Well, I suppose I should take out the recycling... by which I mean clear out the massive pile of beer bottles and Red Bull cans that's currently covering my desk. And maybe some more hummus... mmmm, hummus. Anyway, peace out, y'all! Hope you're enjoying this disgustingly hot weather almost as much as my gross pit stains are!
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