This year's Halloween was no exception.
Friday was the Know Your Meme party, which I was really looking forward to because last year's was really fun, I had a really good night overall. Tonight was different though. I wasn't inspired to go to much effort for a meme, so I just went as Shoulder Cookie, which is lame and Michael pissed me off because he wanted me to already be there having a good time and it just seemed like a weird thing to get down about, so I just walked right past him when I got in and checked to see who was there and was in a really, really bad mood. I was even accidentally rude to my dear friend, Ronan, who is crazy and amazing and he said, "We're fighting now!" and I still don't know whether he actually meant it.
Eventually, things lightened up and every thing went OK.
Saturday was better. Because Saturday was Molly. And Saturday's with Molly are always better than confusing boys. So I show up, late (damn, though I tried really hard to get there early, but that damn F train is so unpredictable), and we dress up a bit.
I first dress up in all this weird stuff my Mum sent as a birthday present and took a photo of it, because that's what she wanted... and it didn't make any sense.
Then we took off to Brooklyn for Brad's birthday party. It was freezing. It was really nice to see Brad and Kevin and Nicole and Robert. We hung around the counter eating lollies and chips and dip (they had this amazing cheese dip which I absolutely adored. It felt like a hang out I would have back home when I was younger, and I would have been happy to stay there the whole time, but Molly and I had another party to go too.
It's freezing and we're both wearing heels and we're just trying to zone in on getting to this party without complaining too much, well, at least I am. I'm a bit of cold-whinger.
The Sexy Cat Party was awesome, there was Four Loco, which was funny and other things, and I had an amazing time in this beautiful loft with the gorgeous Michelle and Grace. I remember dancing to Whip My Hair back and forth and taking it very seriously!
I found walking home, very difficult and utterly hilarious. I have never been more intoxicated. Stumbling all over the place, bent over in laughter, leaning on walls and random steps for support while I got my bearings. I had to take a cab home in the end. It was the best!
Sunday was not so good. I felt ill. Hmm, I wonder why? I went uptown with Michael to see our friend do this Opera show and she was amazing and I really enjoyed it, though the place is way too expensive, making you pay for two terrible drinks each. Ugh.
Afterwards, I was paired up with her friend and her and Michael led the way. They get along really well and it's hard for anyone else to really get a word in and I started to feel a bit lonely, left with this stranger, who was perfectly nice, but still, it was awkward.
It just got worse after that. We had dinner and I was neglected and other people were given more intimate attention and it just felt really wrong. I wanted to leave so badly but kept on going. Michael and our friend could probably see that I was in a bad mood but didn't know what to do about it.
It just continued, misery, misery, anger, misery. Not at the girl, but at Michael. Why was he behaving so strangely. Why was he blurring the lines continually? I think I knew what he wanted out of the night and that made me angry.
"Are you guys...all...together?"
Anyway, tried something new I've never tired before, but other than an intense amount of focus while drawing later on and a total freakout later on in the night, it didn't really make me feel any different.
I left early the next morning and ran away from the evening. Even now, when I think about that day, my stomach turns with hot anger and sadness at how I was treated.
Eventually, things lightened up and every thing went OK.
Saturday was better. Because Saturday was Molly. And Saturday's with Molly are always better than confusing boys. So I show up, late (damn, though I tried really hard to get there early, but that damn F train is so unpredictable), and we dress up a bit.
I first dress up in all this weird stuff my Mum sent as a birthday present and took a photo of it, because that's what she wanted... and it didn't make any sense.
Then we took off to Brooklyn for Brad's birthday party. It was freezing. It was really nice to see Brad and Kevin and Nicole and Robert. We hung around the counter eating lollies and chips and dip (they had this amazing cheese dip which I absolutely adored. It felt like a hang out I would have back home when I was younger, and I would have been happy to stay there the whole time, but Molly and I had another party to go too.
It's freezing and we're both wearing heels and we're just trying to zone in on getting to this party without complaining too much, well, at least I am. I'm a bit of cold-whinger.
The Sexy Cat Party was awesome, there was Four Loco, which was funny and other things, and I had an amazing time in this beautiful loft with the gorgeous Michelle and Grace. I remember dancing to Whip My Hair back and forth and taking it very seriously!
I found walking home, very difficult and utterly hilarious. I have never been more intoxicated. Stumbling all over the place, bent over in laughter, leaning on walls and random steps for support while I got my bearings. I had to take a cab home in the end. It was the best!
Sunday was not so good. I felt ill. Hmm, I wonder why? I went uptown with Michael to see our friend do this Opera show and she was amazing and I really enjoyed it, though the place is way too expensive, making you pay for two terrible drinks each. Ugh.
Afterwards, I was paired up with her friend and her and Michael led the way. They get along really well and it's hard for anyone else to really get a word in and I started to feel a bit lonely, left with this stranger, who was perfectly nice, but still, it was awkward.
It just got worse after that. We had dinner and I was neglected and other people were given more intimate attention and it just felt really wrong. I wanted to leave so badly but kept on going. Michael and our friend could probably see that I was in a bad mood but didn't know what to do about it.
It just continued, misery, misery, anger, misery. Not at the girl, but at Michael. Why was he behaving so strangely. Why was he blurring the lines continually? I think I knew what he wanted out of the night and that made me angry.
"Are you guys...all...together?"
Anyway, tried something new I've never tired before, but other than an intense amount of focus while drawing later on and a total freakout later on in the night, it didn't really make me feel any different.
I left early the next morning and ran away from the evening. Even now, when I think about that day, my stomach turns with hot anger and sadness at how I was treated.
2 comments:
I don't care if Monday's blue
Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too
Thursday I don't care about you
It's Molly, I'm in love
I get pissed when people I don't knmow offer me advice, so I'm not going to do it. But I hope things worked out in the end. And, you do manage to turn misery into good writing, so, I guess there's some benefit?
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