Happy Thanksgiving and have  a Rockin’ Holiday Season.

Author: Matthew Keegan
Source: download

One month after being cleared of sex assault charges, Michael Jackson’s latest album, The Essential Michael Jackson, has flopped. In the first week of its release only 8000 copies were sold. At this pace it will take nearly one hundred years to equal his most popular album, Thriller, which has sold 40 million copies. Jackson may have been cleared of all charges, but his fans aren’t buying his product. Is this a portent of things to come? Let’s look at some of the reasons why Michael Jackson may be long “past peak” when it comes to entertaining in the US.
The Michael Jackson Trial got the attention of Americans in the first half of 2005 as the drama was played out nightly on cable news shows. Indeed, it seemed as if CNN and Fox News were battling to be the first one to bring the latest and greatest information to viewers. Finally, in June, the verdict was in: not guilty. The Jackson legal team breathed a sigh of relief and pundits predicted that, “Michael Jackson“, Jackson would recover over the next year.
So, why has The Essential Michael Jackson flopped? Certainly it isn’t because of the quality of the songs which include Jackson 5 favorites: “Rockin’ Robin”, “Ben”, and “ABC” as well as “The Girl is Mine” recorded with Paul McCartney and and “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You” with Seidah Garrett. True, it does not contain new material, but the song list should be popular enough to grab the attention of Jackson devotees. It hasn’t. More than likely there are other reasons why it is a slow seller including:
1. The Trial. Jackson may have been cleared of all charges, but this is the second time he has been raked through the coals over alleged behavior. Whether you believe him to be guilty or not, all the publicity did nothing but hurt Jackson. Additionally, the trial just got over…why didn’t record producers wait six months or more to release this album? Oh yeah, someone has to pay his legal bills!
2. Changing Tastes. American music tastes change quickly. What was acceptable a few years ago is not necessarily acceptable today. In Europe, Jackson’s music is still widely accepted. Hmmm… me thinks that Germany or France may put up with him.
3. The Weird Factor. Okay, I have to mention it. Jackson just looks weird. Compared to when he was a kid and also a young adult, Jackson looks nothing like he used to look. Is he white? Is he black? Is he male? Is he female? These are some of the questions asked by fans and followers. Weirdness sells…to a point. Track the career of Boy George for comparison purposes.
Personally, I think Jackson was guilty of at least some of the charges and I believe that many fans think the same way. You, “Michael Jackson“, can be a very good singer, but after awhile fans will tire of all the negative attention and go elsewhere. Witness O.J. Simpon’s life post trial and you can expect Jackson to have a similar fate.
Unless, of course, Michael Jackson moves to Europe.
Matt writes on a variety of topics as well as designs and manages web sites. Please visit The Article Writer to preview his portfolio.

Is this a reference to the ’80’s hairband Europe?  Is this ground control to Major Tom? (wait – now David Bowie?)

No.  It’s just me gearing up to head to Florida for the run!  Yay!  It’s here!  Totally pumped about being there…however the travel (blech!), the packing (ugh!) and the leaving the family (sniff!) is the hard part.  I could do without all of that.   What I can have more of is: Sunshine! Quiet time!  Laughter! Exercise (it’s the holidays man)! Deep discussions. Rediculous discussions.  Ethnic food (to counter-balance that exercise). and maybe some spirits (after the race silly).  I’ve been off the booze for 2 weeks – okay, one week – okay 6 days.  But will not drink another beer or glass of wine until Sunday night – if that’s legal in Florida.

Here is the most amazing part of this trip:  While I’m running for water in Florida, Scott Harrison (charity:water founder) will be in Iowa celebrating water4christmas.  Amazing!  I read a book a couple of years back called The Sacred Echo (by Margaret Feinberg) – in it she shares accounts of how God prepares us for what is to come by repeating the same theme, song, idea, verse, whatever, until he gets our attention (very paraphrased by the way).  Since I read the book my eyes have been opened at how God works.  Should I be surprised by Him? Sometimes I laugh about it “really God? This song?”  Sometimes I am curious about it, “What is that supposed to mean?”  Sometimes I’m just amazed – this weekend is one of those times (and another here in a second).  When I set out to run this 1/2 marathon I wanted to do it for something bigger than me – when I shared my idea with with the water4christmas girls they were thrilled and then they told me Scott would be in Iowa – THE SAME WEEKEND I’M RUNNING!!  I’m just amazed!  God has plans.  Kinda fun and interesting plans if you ask me (were you asking?) 

The second story is one related to yesterday’s post.  I mentioned feeling small and how I needed to feel small….well today my devotional was on just that.  “But he said to me, ‘My grace is enough for you.  When you are weak, my power is made perfect in you.’ So I am very happy to brag about my weaknesses.  Then Christ’s power can live in me. For this reason I am happy when I have weaknesses, insults, hardtimes, sufferings, and all kinds of troubles for Christ. because when I am weak, then I am truly strong.” 2 Cor. 12 9-10  How about that!?!? God. You still surprise me. Thanks.

If you are wondering.  I’ve ran a few miles in the last few days – 8 to be exact.  If you have been following along, praying, donating, or rolling your eyes…thank you.  I appreciate all of the support, thoughts, and water provided.   To donate $8 for this weeks training - one more time – click here or here

Sunday will be the race and you can donate $13.10 on that day as well – in support.  It will bring 1 liberian clean water for 13.1 years.

If you are going to be in Florida for the 1/2 or are quietly stalking me…I’ll be wearing this:

See that little packet of goodness in my left hand (on the right)?  That is my new best friend – GU Chomps.  (sorry girls.  I know I said you were my best friends but GU gives me super powers, sustains my energy for hours…and does not make me laugh until I pee a little.)  

I will miss you all.  I’ll take pictures.  I’ll get a tan. I’ll make you jealous.  

Run on Friends!

ps - I e-mailed Maragaret Feinberg after reading that book and she is awesome.  We had a fun little conversation for a while.  I think you would like her & her books – new one just came out  - get it. Over and out!

For all you gamers out there who play Rock Band on PS3 or any other console.

Meet Ava, actually it’s ava, she doesn’t punctuate. She doesn’t! ava is one of my alter egos. She is most like me, except she plays drums in a band called The Stonecold Steve Austins. Yeah. She didn’t make the name up, for one it’s punctuated, for two it’s a guy name, and for three they are not wrestlers. Duh.

The band consists of the leader who is Steve Austin plays guitar. The singer Daisy, blonde hair, zebra pants, with a cute pink halter top (perfect 15yr old rendition). She’s all that. Then the band’s bass player is Jolt, soap star looking blonde with a big tattoo on his chest. The singer really digs Jolt.(Jolt, 16yrs old been dating Daisy over a year) He plays with his shirt off.

Before ava joined the band, the previous drummer was named Jade. Long black hair in dreads, pale skin, big green eyes with a nose piercing. She wore a leather jacket with a hot pink bikini top sporting leather pants. Jade ROCKED. She had a silver drum set. Seriously! She was crazy cool (and sooo unlike me).

See, Jade felt out of place. Everyone else in the band was themselves, or most like themselves. So she left – promising to return and jam again when the mood so strikes – and ava joined. Daisy thought ava looked fat and she can’t stand the fact that she wears a pink top with jeans, and the jeans have a red belt, that doesn’t match. What-evah!

Thing is, whether it’s Jade or ava, neither drummer has ever gotten a 100%, even on EASY. It’s an elusive feat for both of them. And not because of practice either, when Jade started she barely made it through a song without failing out. She just banged away until the song ended if she couldn’t catch the beat. Believe me sometimes her beat was waaaay off.

ava comes along with much more experience, but still misses the mark on 100%, every time. She has made a promise to herself, as soon as she peaks the score, and snatches that 100%. It’s medium all they way baby!

Last night’s JAM, NOT resulting in 100% – again.

Truly, I wasn’t a gamer until I met Jason. I had no idea what I was missing. It is a fun family activity, that everyone can enjoy. It’s also a great way to enjoy music. We don’t just have Rock songs, we have country, Christian rock, and metal. There is a variety. My favorite right now is Kings of Leon.

I don’t let it get me down that I can’t quite attain the 100 score. I just keep playing with all my heart. I keep trying. I love this game. I’ll get there eventually. In the meantime…..I WANNA ROCK!

L’instru est malade! Vous pouvez l’entendre en vous procurant Confessions d’un Enfant du Siècle Vol. 1

I’m fairly sure that the Berkeley campus is having a mass hangover. No one on the streets, no one at the gym…I hope some people at least had more fun than I did. Well actually, I’m not that type of person, the kind ones the world really needs, who are happy for other people and willing to settle for trickle-down joy. And my Halloween was a little less than stellar.

—

No one came to Buttercup’s potluck. By “no one”, I dont mean that there weren’t any cool people there, or that only a few people went. I meant no one showed up. I was there. Buttercup was there. Jasmine was there. I brought my roommate Rosemary and JT and Jack Dawson. We dressed up, decorated, set up a table of food…and ate it all ourselves. Korean 1 (who considers Buttercup one of his best friends) was “busy”. Korean 2 was studying for a midterm, even though he’d expressed excitement earlier in the week and was “definitely going to be there”. Korean 3 was working. Buttercup’s three other girl-friends, who’d RSVP’d, called earlier in the day to announce a rain check. Buttercup’s other friend opted to stay home with his girlfriend and watch movies. Romeo wasn’t there, probably because he wanted to avoid awkwardness (pussy). And the hot guy that I mentioned, who’d said he might show and bring champagne, didn’t.

Buttercup said she didn’t mind, but I’d been looking foward to mingling and getting to know people, and I’d wanted to show JT and Jack Dawson a better time.

—

We went to a “frathouse” that…was really a poor excuse for one, what with not even being on frat row and all. As we were leaving, a brother mentioned that I’d thrown up on the front porch. Uh? No, I hadn’t. I was drunk, and I dont remember perfectly everything that happened, but I would know if I’d thrown up. I didn’t. It wasn’t me. I’ve never drank to the point where I lost chunks of time big enough to puke in, and usually if you remind me that I did something, I will remember doing it…and this time was no exception. I know it just sounds like a poor excuse, and no one will believe a girl who was drunk, but I’m innocent of the crime. Besides, there was no evidence of it: I hadn’t even felt queasy at all, my throat wasn’t burning from the vomit afterward, there was no “residue” anywhere on me. And I know I shouldn’t care that people who I’ll probably never see again, let alone recognize or be recognized by, think that I threw up on the front porch, but I do. It’s stupid, but I do.

—

As we were walking home, I kept telling Jasmine and Buttercup “No, it wasn’t me. I swear, it wasn’t me”, and I thought they believed me. Until this morning (after I did throw up, but in the bathroom). I’m still not sure even now if they believe me, and that makes me want to hit something.

—

At the party there were two girls making out on the floor, one of which who’d been all over Jasmine earlier. She was completely wasted, and she had short dark hair and was wearing a black dress. Buttercup managed to snap a picture of her on the floor, and every time I flipped to that picture in her camera, I’d think she was me for a millisecond. Maybe that’s who really did throw up…?

—

I met a guy dressed as a ninja with plastic swords crossed over his back, and then I grabbed one of his swords and snapped it in half. Accidently, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. He didn’t care; he just took the tip half and stuck it in his belt, declaring it a dagger, and put the handle part back in the sheath, where it looked perfectly whole. It’s nothing superglue wouldn’t fix, but I still feel bad about it.

—

A guy I knew from class was there. Rosemary and I had had coffee with him two weeks ago, and I think he might have been a little interested in me. I tried not to be all over him, and I think I controlled myself pretty well, but I did shove my cell phone in his pocket several times, wander off, then come back for it later, practically groping him through his pants to retrieve it. Buttercup said she saw me leaning against him at one point and she called him a douchebag because she thought she saw him look annoyed. He’s not a douche; he’s a classic “nice guy”. But now I feel like I may have killed whatever respect he’d had for me.

—

Buttercup brought a guy home and fucked him. This really has nothing to do with why my Halloween wasn’t great, but I thought it was worth mentioning.

—

After we got home at 2 ish, Jasmine invited over a guy she liked, who’d been partying elsewhere but was pretty much sober when he arrived. Jasmine likes this guy, and I was stupid enough to mention, and not stop mentioning, how I wasn’t wearing a bra under my costume (I’d taken off the strapless one I’d been wearing but when I heard he was coming over I wanted to put my costume back on but didn’t have enough time to put on a bra). I also (apparently) flashed him a little as I was adjusting my neckline. This morning over breakfast Jasmine expressed annoyance at what I did, and now I feel horrible. I wasn’t trying to flirt with him, but sometimes I just can’t help but do so, and alcohol doesn’t help my self control. I know she’s not angry at me, because she knows I was drunk and she understands, but I know also that she’s not peachy about it either.

—

The guy proceeded to finish off my handle of Captain Morgan (6 shots or so), on top of the alcohol he’d already had earlier that night. He was drunk, and as he, Jasmine, and I sat on the mattress/futon on the floor he kept trying to touch me and sit next to me. I had enough wits about me to know not to entertain any advances because Jasmine liked him, so I kind of just sat there, on the other side of Jasmine from him if I could, on top of her at times. I just have to say that if he wasn’t Jasmine’s crush I would have probably touched him right back and ended up making out (or more!) with him, so I’m glad I didn’t do that, at least. Needless to say.

—

At one point as I was using the bathroom Jasmine said to me “He likes you” in an exhasperated, resigned tone. When Buttercup and I went downstairs to take out the trash shortly after, she confirmed what Jasmine had said, and added, “this kind of thing is probably going to happen to us for the rest of our lives” (referring also to Korean 2) “Guys we like are going to like you.” And while it’s flattering, and something that being the kind of heartless bitch I am I totally would love, at the same time I kind of wish it wouldn’t happen. Because it would put wedges between our friendship and I dont want to hurt Buttercup and Jasmine, and I dont want them to resent me. Even though it’s a fantastic ego boost, when I really think about it, it’s not worth it.

—

We ended up talking quietly and/or joking in the dark until about 5:30 (pre Falling Back), with me trying to avoid the guy and him not so subtly advancing, not that he pushed it or anything. Jasmine and I lay down to go to sleep on the full-sized mattress, only to find him coming up on the end of it, wanting to talk more. At one point he stole my spot, and I reclaimed it, only to lose it to him again when I got up to use the bathroom. Instead of lying down in the middle like he wanted me to, I lay down on the other side, with Jasmine in the middle, and that’s how we went to sleep.

—

Jasmine called me emotionally stunted (retarded? muted?) (she didn’t say it meanly; she was just remarking on it to her friend. And I totally understand why she would think that. And I agree with her. More on this some other day maybe.

—

Anyway, it’s not that I didn’t have a good time. I did; there were just so many little things that came together to make it suck a little bit. Funny thing though, that (although it’s probably only coincidence being a bitch) when I end up blowing a guy I’m sunshine the next day, and when I dont, I come back with a roiling tummy (metaphorically). There’s an obvious solution to this, but for some unfathomable reason I’m a bit wary.

JT and Jack Dawson are in the other room. Alone. With the door closed. I hope they’re not, like, having sex in there, because it would be rude of them when I have dinner all heated and Buttercup is waiting for us to come over.

—

Although, even if they’re talking—which I think is what they’re doing—it’s still a little rude of them.

—

They did this a few hours ago too, at the dollar store. Jack Dawson had been pissy/quiet since he’d gotten here and he apparently pulled JT aside in the store and they then proceeded to have a 3o minute talk and I…strolled around the aisles and tried not to look like I was loitering around a dollar store. For 30 minutes. Finally I said to hell with it and went to fetch them, because there’s only so long a girl can stand in front of the check out lanes with a sullen look on her face.

—

Tomorrow is Buttercup’s Halloween potluck, and I’m dressing up for the first time in years and I’m excited. On a similar note, a very hot guy that I think maybe possibly may be a little interested in me might be there. Haha, I guess it doesn’t sound very exciting on paper. Er, cybertext. Or whatever.

—

Also, Korean 2 will be there. Korean 2, who, might I remind you all, Buttercup thinks likes me. And I see it too. And I have no real interest in him, except that I like that he likes me.

—

Romeo might be there too. But I’m guessing not.

—

I am so excited.

He was amazing!

 Let me start by telling you…I left my real camera at home.  You know, the point and shoot kind.

I’m sure you would not do such a thing, but I NEVER think of bringing it anywhere.  Good thing most phones come with cameras now.  Otherwise I would have to draw a stick figure of Rt for you. 

See those folks in the front row who could touch him?  We referred to them as “jerks”.  Because we are good parents. That’s why.  LittleFoot kept saying, “They are so lucky. Aren’t they mom?”  She will be a better parent someday.

He played for 2 hours.  He never let up.  He rocked out.  He was amazing.  It was the best birthday present E.V.E.R.!  Hands-down.  There has been no other. 

BigFoot, LittleFoot  and Father Runner all enjoyed it too.  BigFoot only made one comment saying, “I wish he was more Rock and less Pop.”  Then he proceeded to look for Green Day tickets on my phone.  Funny BigFoot.  (you wish)

There you go.  It’s over.  We loved it.  Our family night will never be the same.  

Rock on Friends!

We’re headed up today to go see him. 

He’s going to rock our socks off! 

While I’m gone…be sure and click  the SocialVibe to the right!  Again…you only have to click and Powerbar gives $$ that goes for life-saving water!  It’s FREE to you!  Really.  Try it.  So easy, yet so powerful.

Also: go check out the water4christmas etsy shop.  You’ll be glad you did.

One last one:

Yes!  That’s it Rob Thomas!  Rock it!

Rock on Friends!

Who knew in Anywhere there is to be found, in varying quantities:

A 50 pound cooler full of drinks (normal drinks and happy drinks) enough to last us a week in the case of a freak storm and subsequent snow-in, lunchables, 7-layer-dip that is actually 4-layer-dip, sass, two-horse towns, quaint little country roads, scary little country roads, high school homecomings, impromptu stops, impromptu bathroom breaks, snark, sunny overlooks, WWII bunkers, picnics by the sea, toothpaste foam, cat allergies, wit, sparkling apple cider, illegal U-turns, Starbucks, Starbucks, Starbucks, three people in one little not-quite-queen bed, drag queens, gay couples, Jacuzzis full of gay couples, drunken karaoke, jumping drunk into an unheated pool at midnight to the countdown of strangers, spiders in bathtubs, blankets in the backseat, *NSYNC, pumpkin patches, cool fall breezes, drunken conversations about boys, calls to best friends back home, no homework, 20 pound gains, pedicures, deep fried battered items, carrot juice, pool at a pub, sarcasm, sports bras worn as bikini tops, gay porn, wood stoves, the scent of redwood trees, and realizing at the end that even though you had the time of your life and would do it all again in a New York minute and even though you love it up north and wish you had more than a weekend and don’t really want to come back, you really love it in Berkeley.

I have a secret.  I LOVE Rob Thomas!! I mean L.O.V.E. – LOVE him!!  There is only two little problems in our relationship.  Rob smokes.   And Rob doesn’t even know I exsist.  Oh yeah.  and I’m married to Father Runner – who rocks my world like Rob never could.

What does this have to do with water?  Well.  Absolutely nothing.

You see.  I turned 40 a couple months ago and Father Runner, BigFoot and LittleFoot bought me tickets to see Rob Thomas. In a venue that holds only 1200 people!  Yes. That’s right.  I will be able to touch Rob Thomas if I so choose.  The concert is this week.  I’ve waited two months for my present and it will be worth it.  Want a sneak peak? Of course you do!  He’s so Smooth. Get it?  Smooth? The song he’s singing in that photo with Santana? No? Okay. Never mind then.  

Anyway.  This week is going to be about Rob Thomas.  About how we first met.  How I felt seeing him in concert for the first time.  The second time.  About a recent interview that made me laugh like a high school girl.  All in preparation for the big night when I run up on stage and tell him “Hey Rob Thomas. If this is ever going to work you are going to have to stop smoking!”  Sorry Rob Thomas.  You just don’t have the fresh breath of Father Runner. 

Stop that Rob Thomas!

Rock on Friends!

Friday: Class, home, gym, sweat like a pig, shower, pack, run run run to Buttercup’s apartment.

We made a quick dash to Safeway with Buttercup’s 21 year old roommate in tow and returned to the car 80 dollars poorer but 3 bottles of alcohol richer, which is a fair trade in my book. Dinner at Jack In The Box (“Why does it sound sexual every time you say ‘Jack In The Box’, [truste]?”), then back to Buttercup’s to get sexy.

Buttercup’s Korean friend arrived, one that we had met two months ago at a party, who spoke only broken English and who’d been depressed for a month because he missed his girlfriend back home and didn’t have any friends in the States. Koreans 2 and 3 (Korean 1 was out of the country) were running late (douchebags), so we said fuck them and started on the shots. Koreans 2 and 3 showed up, gawked at the three of us girls in our skirts and body-paint, and downed 4 shots each in 10 minutes.

Bus ride: I sat down for all of a minute before getting restless and standing up amidst choruses of “Sit down!” We all of us compared hand sizes. Korean 2 told Jasmine and me to make out (Patience, the night is still young, but if you keep your eyes peeled you just might catch some action later on). By a stroke of luck Buttercup glanced out the window just in time to see our stop. We tumbled out and up the street.

Jasmine had to pee. I walked her to the bathroom and on the way out brushed into a guy leaning against the doorframe. “Hi!” I said, and introduced myself. The guy had the same name as my best friend, and I told him so. We talked for a little bit longer, and then I wandered off. Jasmine stuck a bottle of Tequila in my face.

“I dont want to mix light and dark,” I said, “It messes you up.”

She shook the bottle in front of my eyes. “Look, it IS dark.”

I took the shot.

Somehow I ended up making out with the guy I met (whom I shall refer to as Amaretto from now on, for reasons which will be later revealed) on the couch, and Buttercup later told me that we were so intent on each other that it was like there was no one else in the room. (If you know my track record at all, you’ll have guessed where this is going.) At one point Buttercup came over and I patted the couch on the other side of Amaretto, indicating that she should sit down. She did, and we leaned over with him in the middle and made out. Then our teeth clicked together, and Buttercup pulled away and left me to him.

When I finally came up for air, I remembered to wonder where everyone had gone. I ran into Korean 2, who told me that they were in the laundry room (wth?), and I pulled Amaretto in with me. I dont know how or why, but all of us who had been at Buttercup’s apartment to begin with (Koreans 2, 3, and 4, Jasmine, Buttercup, and I), plus Amaretto were cloistered in there with the party raging outside. A back door led into the back yard, where Jasmine leaned on the balcony texting a guy she shouldn’t be texting and Korean 4 (they later told me) dozed.

The light wasn’t on, and I could see Buttercup leaning into Korean 2, whom she has a big crush on, and he had his arms around her. I myself was using Amaretto as my own personal recliner. Annoyed that I couldn’t see anything, I told him to turn the light on for me, which he did, and there was a brief moment of brightness before Korean 2 turned it back off again. I tried to get it back on, but he kept his hand on the pull and wouldn’t allow it.

Later, Amaretto tried to get me upstairs. I told him “No, these are people’s rooms up here, I’m not going to hook up with you in people’s rooms,” and sat down on the stairs instead. He sat behind me, and we attacked each other until I realised that everyone coming up or down the stairs could see us with our lips glued to each other, my skirt riding waaay up, and my hands pawing his crotch. I collected myself and told him to warn me if someone was coming up.

One of the girls who lived at the house came up the stairs. She remembered me, and she said, slurringly, “You guys guard the stairs, okay? You are the sentinels of the stairs, guys, alright?” It was just after this that I ran my fingers down the sides of Amaretto’s pant legs and found in his pocket a freaking entire bottle of Amaretto di Amore. He asked me if I wanted some. I said, “No, I really shouldn’t, but you go ahead,” and he chugged it straight from the bottle. Then he said, “we can’t be sentinels of the stairs from down here on the bottom steps. We need to be higher up,” and pulled me to the shadowy top of the stairs.

A lot of making out, some groping, etc, etc. Buttercup came up the stairs. “Get Korean 2 to make out with me,” she said.

“You want me to ask him?” I asked. Even drunk, part of me knew that it wasn’t a good idea. Unfortunately, none of me considered that it wouldn’t become a good idea just because she answered Yes.

“Yes,” she answered. I told her to send him on up.

Korean 2 came up. “[Buttercup] said you wanted to see me,” he said.

“I want to talk to both of you at once,” I replied. He asked me why. I told him he should make out with Buttercup and after a few minutes of failed convincing he put his hand over my mouth and pushed me into Amaretto’s arms. A lanky shirtless guy came up the stairs. I grabbed his hand and shook it. When he was gone, I said to Amaretto, “I like his abs.”

“Mine are two times better,” he replied, so I told him to take his shirt off and prove it. He took his shirt off, and he proved it. He had fantastic abs. I dont think I took my hands off them the rest of the night.

Amaretto began pulling me into the little bathroom that lay on top of the stairs. “No, no, no,” I said, “I dont want to go in there. People need to use the bathroom.” I didn’t want to be that girl monopolizing the bathroom at a party. He assured me it would be okay and we closed the door behind us. I tried to turn on the light but he was having none of it; therefore, I blame on him the fact that I knocked the towel rack off the door. He turned on the light and we stared down at the three pieces of it lying on the floor.

“Fix it, please?” I asked him. I knew I was too uncoordinated to fold a paper airplane, let alone insert connect three pieces of metal together and ease the entire contraption into the tiny slots in the wall.

I sat on the closed toilet seat and he bent down to me. The poor boy had waited long enough. I began unzipping his fly, pushing up his shirt, taking down his pants. I went to work, sliding off the seat and to my knees to get a better angle. Someone knocked on the door. I took Amaretto’s hard cock out of my mouth and told him to turn on the light. Without thinking, I opened the door to let in two girls. Luckily, the open door blocked half the bathroom (and Amaretto) from sight, although I’m sure the girls knew who was in there and what we were up to. I certainly wasn’t doing anything to hide it. They told me to have fun in there and Amaretto and I laughed about what had happened. We started making out again and I clumsily fell backward, banging my head and upper back against the wall, hard and knocking the towel rack down again. I sheepishly handed him the pieces.

As he fumbled with the metal bars, I dropped to my knees and picked up where I’d left off. A few moments later I looked up at him. “Did you fix it?” I asked.

“Uh, no,” he replied. “I got kinda distracted.”

We both returned to work, except that I was doing a considerably better job than he was. Finally, I had to pause to give him the opportunity to finish. I knelt on the floor with my back against the door and he stood over me, leaning against his arms on the doorframe. Somehow I’d convinced him to leave the light on, mostly because, um, I might accidentally bite his cock in the dark.

“[Truste]?” Buttercup’s voice said from the other side of the door. “Hurry up, we’re leaving. You can bring [Amaretto]” I told her to give me three minutes.

Amaretto began thrusting into my mouth. “I’m almost there,” he whispered. I looked up at him. Sweat was dripping down his cheek and he was pressing his forehead against the arm that was braced against the door, his mouth open and panting.

“Come on, [Truste],” Jasmine called, “We’re leaving.” Sadly, I put Amaretto’s hard-on back into his pants.

The early morning fog was beginning to come out, refracting (defracting? reflecting?) off the glow of the streetlights. Our little troupe stumbled down the street being too loud and too (duh) drunk. At a crosswalk Amaretto stopped. “My place is this way, do you want to come back with me?” I told him that no, I wasn’t going back to his place, but that if he wanted to come back to Buttercup’s, she’d said it was okay. I began walking off. Predictably, he followed.

I was suprised that we all made it back in one piece, but somehow we collapsed into the apartment intact. Korean 4 fell onto the couch and was snoring immediately and Jasmine followed suit on the futon on the floor. The rest of us sat down at the table, and I patted the seat next to me for Amaretto to sit down, and he put his arms around me. Everyone tried to convince me to take him into the other room, and I found myself in the same situation as I’d been the other night.

“I think [Amaretto] is uncomfortable,” Korean 2 said to me.

“Why?” I asked. “I think he’s fine here.”

Korean 2 looked at Amaretto. “Just pick her up and take her,” he said. To me, he said, “Just go, go!”

I sat there stubbornly, and finally Amaretto took Korean 2’s advice and lifted me bodily from behind, pulling me up over the back of the chair and setting me down behind it. Buttercup came over and whispered, “Go so I can try to make out with [Korean 2].”

I went.

Inside the dark room I sat on the roommate’s rolling chair and Amaretto came up between my legs. The pants came back down, the cock came back out. I did what I love to do. “Do you want to sit here?” I asked Amaretto, notincing the way his legs were trembling.

“Actually, yeah, thanks,” he said. I remembered my rugburns from last time (which have since then been replaced with ugly, rough, dark skin; thanks Romeo), and spread Amaretto’s discarded shirt under my knees. I remembered what I’d read about how guys like it when you meet their eyes as you’re giving them head. The room was too dark for me to make out his features but his breathing escalated every time I looked up at him so he must’ve been able to see something.

He came quickly, pushing my head down onto his cock as he did as I tried to get all of it into my mouth (I could just barely do it; it was thick), and pushing his forearm against his mouth in what looked like an effort to stifle any moans. His cum tasted better than that of all the other guys I’d been with, and afterward I stroked and sucked him gently until he was mostly soft. Then I smiled up at him. He slid off the chair and onto the floor, saying “Wow…I’m speechless.”

We lay there for a little bit and then I walked him to the door. He stopped in the kitchen long enough to say “Wow…wow, wow.” And as I hugged him goodbye, I said, “if you ever want a repeat performance, I’m up.” He put his name into my cellphone (although apparantly I already had his number because he’d taken my cell earlier and called his from it, the sneaky bastard. I’d thought I’d seen him fiddling with it.)

“Call me?” he asked.

“No,” I told him. “You call me.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

I let him out, texted Buttercup, brushed my teeth, and curled up on the futon next to Jasmine, and her snores and those of Korean 4 (still on the couch) lulled me to sleep.

(Follow up thoughts on this later. This post is much too long already for me to write any more.)

Monday’s stucked.

I just decided i don’t like mondays.

Could they suck any more? Probably, I’m not sure, but it feels like it couldn’t be a more sucky day. O___o get my amaising discriptiveness… SUCKY!

just sat in ma room after a sucky day at college, just sat and listening to the P.S. I Love You soundtrack, ‘cuz its rockin duuuuuude. XD

just checked ma little Blog Awards thingle magiggle. its quiet shocking to be honest. i have 11 votes. EVELEN!!!!

shock.

horror.

people are actually voting for me! :D:D

im still gonna lose thought. XD

just remembered i gotta water ma plant, cuz im cool, i have a plant next to my bed. its called fern the NON-ficus. XD. im not sure what make it is so thats what it can be.

XD.

righty hoobles.

im off.

but, fret not, dear reader, you now have your god of the week, find them on the left! =D

and yeah, ill probably blog again later. =D

love y’all!

I have serious rugburn on my knees, and this is how I went about getting it:

After Buttercup’s Friend-With-Benefits broke up with her, I told her, “We are going on a manhunt this weekend. On Monday we’re going to wake up with more notches on our bedposts than we had on Friday.” She heartily agreed, and Jasmine, Buttercup, and I spent the rest of the week abuzz.

Friday at 5 finds me at Buttercup’s apartment, working on a poster for Jasmine, whose birthday is on Monday. Jasmine showed up not long after, shouting from the yard “You guys, hurry up! I have an awesome story to tell you.” In the car on the way to dinner, Jasmine tells us about how she got pulled over for speeding but got out of a ticket by flirting with him and using her chest to her best advantage. I love being a girl.

Dinner happened. We were all dressed up with nowhere to go, because none of us know of any parties. We loitered around the apartment texting various people to see if they have any leads. From the balcony we could see people in the adjacent yard starting up a party, blasting music and carrying out kegs. We countered by blasting N-SYNC. After she’s had sufficient alcohol in her system, Buttercup leaned over the balcony and shouted to the partygoers asking if we can come over. We could.

We finished up the bottles of vodka and Captain Morgan (no, we’re not alcoholics, they were near empty bottles), poured some Mike’s Hard Lemonade into a water bottle to avert suspicion, and set off to find the address the guy Buttercup talked to gave us. It wasn’t a huge gathering, and it wasn’t an amazing party, but it was a somewhere to be, and they had a live DJ and Y chromosomes. The most interesting thing there was a skinny girl whose already eccentric outfit was topped off by a furred hat with ears, which prompted me to text JT, cryptically, “this party is lion king.” Yeah, I wasn’t exactly sober.

Buttercup’s friends Korean 1, Korean 2, and Korean 2 showed up, and separately, so did Romeo and Hamlet. We partied. A stocky guy manned one end of a beer pong table. “Wanna be my parther?” he asked me.

“Yeah, okay!” I said. “Wait, for what?”

He indicated the setup. “Beer pong.”

“Oh, no. I don’t know how to play.”

“Wanna be my partner?” he asked Jasmine.

I stayed to watch the game begin, and then I wandered off to find Buttercup, who was still on the “dance floor”, ie, the yard facing the street. Suddenly, a bright light cut through the darkness. I squinted against it. Buttercup whispered, “Oh shoot. Police, let’s get out of here.” She herded me and Korean 2 out of there and texted everyone else to get the heck out of there. Safely down the street, we sat on a curb to wait. They showed up a short while after. Jasmine pouted, “I was winning!”

The eight of us stood on the street staring at each other with various degrees of soberness. We decided to follow our original plan, which was to head over to Frat Row to maybe catch a party, even though with five guys and only 3 girls, we figured our chances to get in were slim. As we stopped at Buttercup’s place to use the bathroom and grab our IDs, I texted JT, my texts slowly downward spiraling into incomprehensibility. Finally, I called him and handed the phone to Jasmine when it was my turn with the bathroom because she’s one of those people who can entertain anyone, even sober.

Fifteen minutes we’re trekking towards Frat Row. I alternately ran ahead to talk to Hamlet and Romeo, stayed back to talk to Korean 2, and kept my pace in the middle of our little column to talk with Jasmine or Buttercup. We made it up to the bustling core of Frat Row and ran into The Runner, whom I hugged probably more than was necessary to avoid giving him the wrong idea. Well, let the boy think what he wants. I was drunk.

There was some kind of police car outside the beautiful brick-and-ivy frat I that admire every time I pass by (and that seems to produce the hottest guys), so we high-tailed it out of there. Slowly and drunkenly. Now that I think about it, we were hardly inconspicuous as we made the long walk back to Buttercup’s apartment.

I’m making it sound as if the walking part was just the boring in-between, but walking and talking (drunkenly) was really half the fun. I spent most of my time talking to Romeo and Hamlet, and sometimes I would chat up Korean 2. Later, Buttercup and Jasmine commented about how I was flirting with Romeo, which was probably true, but it was hardly strange. When a guy is within a ten foot radius of me, flirting is my default setting. It doesn’t even matter if he’s fugly, a jackass, or both (case in point: Hamlet is all of 3 feet tall and scrawny as a bat, but did that stop me?). Some of it is automatic, some of it I’m conscious of. I’m a flirt, there’s no two ways about it.

The second thing Buttercup told me later was that Korean 2 seemed like he was flirting with me, and she thinks that he likes me. But earlier that week Buttercup had told me that all three Koreans were off limits, because she used to like one, likes one now, and wants to bang the third. And so I kept my distance. Apparently, though, he was interested in my disinterest.

Somewhere along the way back, we lost the Koreans. Or, rather, I lost them, because I was up ahead flirting (drunkenly) with Romeo and Hamlet, and when I turned around, I found ourselves less three Koreans. Apparently they had gone to get food. Bastards.

At the cross-section between Buttercup’s apartment and Romeo’s and Hamlet’s, Hamlet parted ways with us, but Romeo said he’d stay. I think at this point I had already made verbal sexual advances to him, but I don’t recall what exactly I said. Earlier that evening I remember him saying “I like your body” only half jokingly in response to something or other I’d said, which, you know, only urged me on. It was obvious why he wanted to come along; whatever I’d said to him had given him the idea that he was going to get lucky tonight, and he probably had good reason to, at that.

We lay in the dark, the four of us, in a row on the ground laughing, talking, being friends. Buttercup, Jasmine, and I have a point system regarding how many guys we’ve hooked up with, and we told Romeo about it. I don’t remember if it was before or after I asked him (half jokingly, as is my wont), whether he wanted some more points tonight, that he got all up on me. Seriously. I don’t think I initiated anything physically, but he was lying all on top of me, and would kiss my neck or mouth from time to time, as I mostly just talked to the girls. Although, I wasn’t unresponsive, and I certainly wasn’t pushing him off. Also, Romeo said he was a little tipsy, but one wonders how tipsy even a skinny Asian guy can get after just one drink. Also also, Jasmine and Buttercup and I made out. A lot.

Soon later, Buttercup took me into the bathroom. Jasmine, on her way back from getting water in the kitchen, was told by Romeo, lying alone on the floor, where we had gone, and she joined us. They asked me what I wanted from Romeo. I told them I wouldn’t mind blowing him, but was afraid that it would be awkward because Buttercup and Romeo were friends. (I’d met him twice before. The first time I was drunk, and I told him that if he hadn’t just come back from a date I would make out with him (which isn’t all that flattering considering that when I’m drunk I’ll make out with a brick, but he doesn’t have to know that). The second time I met him, he’d remembered what I’d said, and brought it up right after our hellos) Buttercup and Jasmine told me to go for it, and Buttercup offered me her roommate’s vacated room.

We came out. They awkwardly shepherded the two of us into the dark room and closed the door. We stared at each other awkwardly. I think he was a little scared, because later Buttercup told me she took him aside to give him every Father’s you-better-treat-her-right lecture. I don’t know how we would have proceeded if I hadn’t, but it was too much for me, just knowing that they were out there probably talking about what we were doing in here. I opened the door and bolted into the lit hallway, wailing about how awkward it was.

In the kitchen, Jasmine and Buttercup had pulled out a microwave pizza, but I wasn’t hungry, so we watched them eat. He kept his hands off me this time, and I don’t blame him; I would’ve felt a little crestfallen if I were him too. However, when I asked him to take his shirt off, he did so readily, and was out of it like a streak of lightning.

Buttercup and Jasmine finished, and took to their respective beds. Before she left, Buttercup whispered to me, “Text me when he leaves.” I sat in the now-dark hallway, waiting. Romeo came over to me. I said, “let’s go in here.”

It was dark in the roommate’s room, and it felt empty and cold. Romeo sat with his back to the bed, and I at his feet. We looked at each other.

“What’s your plan?” he asked.

“I dunno, what’s yours?” I really just wanted him to want it. I wanted him to ask me for it, but I think Buttercup’s little chat with him may have scared him a little.

I said to hell with the awkward, I was getting my cock tonight like I’d said I would (but up till then hadn’t really believed it I would). We started making out, and I licked and nibbled all over his body. He gasped encouragingly, and whispered, “You’re so good at that.”

His belt came off. I let my warm breath run over the hardness in his pants, and then lifted my head. Ask me for it, my brain urged. I have a dominant streak in me; I like to know that the guy wants it, and wants it bad. He never did ask for it, but his moans and rapid breathing told me enough.

I know there are girls who are good at giving head and girls who are bad at giving head, but it seems that not many people know that there are also guys who are good at getting head, and guys who are bad at getting head. Guys who just lie there seemingly unimpressed are bad at it; guys who buck and moan and grasp your hair are good at it. It’s as simple as that. Nothing gets me off more than watching a guy get off.

Romeo was good at getting head. He gasped when I licked his head, moaned when I tongued his balls, cried “Yes!” when I took him into the back of my throat. He clutched at my hair when I told him to hold it (bitches were getting in the way), told me “It feels so good”, and whispered, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God” over and over. His hands caressed my back, and I realized they were searching. “If you’re looking for a bra,” I said, pulling his cock out of my mouth, “you’re not going to find it. I’m not wearing one.” Instead, he found the ties holding my halter top around my neck and pulled them loose, but was too distracted to finish undressing me completely. His loss.

I was having a blast, feeling at home on my knees with a hard cock in my mouth, feeling Romeo shudder under me. For me, giving head isn’t submissive, not at all. It’s in fact dominant. I have your cock in my mouth; I’m in control. I stroked Romeo’s cock with one hand, massaged his balls with my other, and, panting, looked up at him. It was a glorious sight: his lips were parted, his eyes screwed shut, his belly tightening until I could see the muscles of his abs, his longish hair falling askew into his eyes. As we entered the final stretch (if you’ll pardon the metaphor), the boy was shaking: bucking into my mouth, his legs bending and unbending, his hands in my hair balled into trembling fists as I sucked to a continuous soundtrack of moans and groans.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” he gasped, and then “keep doing that, I’m going to cum” as I pumped my hand quickly up and down his cock. Finally, he whispered that he was cumming, and I took him deep into my throat and rode the waves.

Afterward, he was exhausted. I was exhausted. We lay in the darkness just talking and joking quietly, serenely. He excused himself to go use the bathroom and I took the time to fish out my cellphone to see just how much damage to my pride I’d done via texts to JT. When Romeo came back, I was sitting against the bed again with my knees pulled up against my chest and my arms around them.

“It’s cold” he said, sitting down next to me and pulling me to him. “Share body heat.”

He put his arm around me and I leaned against him, half asleep. “Je parle francais” I said to him, because earlier we had all been having fun repeating the phrase while putting on false airs. He replied with something in Spanish.

“I don’t speak Spanish,” I said. “What did you say?”

“You’ll never know.” He replied.

Well. It’s true that I don’t speak Spanish and that I don’t know what he said, but I know enough Spanish phrases to know that “mi amor” means “my love”, and even if I hadn’t I could have inferred it from all the other languages that use “amor” or something similar for the word love.

Also, every now and again he would bend and nibble at my neck or shoulder. “You taste like honey,” he said (wth?).

We sat there for what must have been at least half an our, alternately chatting and sitting quietly. In any case, it got to the point where I wasn’t sure if he was staying because he didn’t want me to feel used or because he genuinely wanted to stay. I think it veered toward the latter. I was the one who suggested we call it a night; a look at the clock told us it had been at least two and a half hours since the others had gone to bed. Romeo dressed and went out into the living room to retrieve his shirt and jacket.

As he was getting dressed Buttercup came out of the bedroom groggy eyed and let him out. I sat on the arm of the couch that was to be my bed and obliged Romeo with one last kiss before he left. And then I answered Buttercup’s questions about what happened and curled up on the couch to sleep.

The next morning Jasmine asked, “So? What happened last night?” and all I had to do was show her the angry rug burns on my knees that I hadn’t even noticed were there until the morning. (Interestingly enough, I have them also in lighter versions on my elbows.) We rung in the day with breakfast at Dennys and singing to the dashboard of Jasmine’s car.

All in all, mission accomplished.

It’s hard to believe, but Christmas is drawing nearer…in fact, there are only 100 shopping days until Christmas. Wow! Of course, I believe there are three awesome places for you to check off the majority of your Christmas shopping:

Here are some other friends who have great businesses for some great gift ideas.

For the Pampered Chefs out there: Tabb’s Kitchen

Unique announcements: Cu-Tees

For all things sewn and home grown: Stitches by Nana

Painted creations: Painted Memories Design

Treasures for babies & toddlers: Rockin’ Baby Boutique

I know all of these ladies, and trust them and their products. Check them out!

Sabato 19 settembre, all’Alcatraz di Milano serata “Milano Rock” con musica da ballare nelle tre piste e il concerto dei RedHotTribu, energico quartetto che renderà omaggio alla celebre band californiana.

Dj set nelle tre sale con musica diversificata

1: 100% Rock (con Dj Max De Riu)

2: International Hits (con Dj Carletto)

3: Heavy Metal (con Dj Moreno)

Apertura ore 22.30

Ingresso: 5 euro

Prima delle 24 è possibile avere la riduzione iscrivendosi alla mailing list dal sito www.alcatrazmilano.com

Alcatraz

via Valtellina 21

Milano

INFO: www.myspace.com/alcatrazmilano

infoline: 339 2333672 – 02 69016352

Last night I slept over at Jasmine’s house near Walnut Creek. I met Jasmine’s best friend, who is so similar to her (in personality and mannerisms, not in appearance) that it’s almost scary. Half the time if I dont look directly at the speaker, I can’t even tell which one of them is speaking. It made me miss JT, my own best friend, whom I haven’t seen in over a month. It also made me wonder, briefly, if we shared the same mannerisms, etc so much that people couldn’t tell us apart when we spoke, until I realised that it would be impossible because JT is a MAN. Physically.

We lolled around eating too much junk food and watching movies until about 1 AM, and then Jasmine broke out the alcohol. I swear, Alcohol and I have a love-hate relationship going on, and I suspect that’s just how it’ll be between us forever. I used to be able to down eight shots without a problem and be riding a blissful cloud of who-am-I-I-dont-care-who-the-heck-I-am-I’m-freaking-drunk by the eighth one. Yesterday, I wanted to puke after one. The best scenario would’ve been a calm stomach and a foggy mind. That’s what I was shooting for. Instead, what do I get but a roiling tummy and an aggravatingly clear head. I was mad. I wanted to get drunk, not have to be demoted to forcing down half-shots that I take 10 minutes to recover from. I’m such a pussy!

So that part of the evening was a disaster; I drank without even getting drunk. Otherwise, it was a great night, and the only thing missing was Buttercup, who had to stay home because she’s been disgustingly sick these past few days. I slept in the guest room (of the Jupiter-sized house) and it was magical how beautiful it was. I pulled out my ipod and wrote,

I’m at Jasmine’s house in the guest room with huge windows and a beautiful view and I want to be a princess and live here forever. And how romantic would this be? If I had a boy right here staring out at the moonlit highway and the glowing sgreetlighta (streetlights) with me? And oh I want a boy so much. Not The Chemist, but a good boy, you know? No I’m not drunk. I wish I was! Seriously though, this house is a castle on a hill. It’s so beautiful. I’m so jealous. God I’m horny. Goodnight!

Anyway, I think I’ll give it a longer time between before I start drinking again. I think the reason my stomach is hating alcohol recently is that I’ve been drinking too often (Almost once a week for three-ish weeks now?) Meanwhile, I’m going to try to weasel myself into JD’s good graces again. I wonder if he’ll mind if I’ve been cheating on him with the Captain?

We rock. All of us, we rock. Me, Rosemary, Buttercup, Jasmine, and The Runner (an old friend from Chinese School two years my younger who I was delighted to find out just started his first year at Berkeley. The Runner, you are going to love it here. Really, this is only the beginning). We threw all inhibitions to the wind and belted out in that little Karaoke room, except probably Rosemary, who maintains inhibitions even when she has no inhibitions, but that’s just the kind of person Rosemary is.

Also, there’s this little Korean place in Oakland on Telegraph that does the most amazing thing with chicken.

Also, Buttercup, The Runner is cute, but I’ve known him since he was ten and chubby and awkward, which means I am not allowed to find him so. (But who am I kidding, it is me, after all).

We heart the beautiful Annalynn McCord rockin’ her new Tarah Smith “Tease” tote! You go girl……

The wait is almost over for the highly anticipated release of Western Hospitality 14.

Courtesy of September 7th, and our friends at dubcnn.com is the entire Western Hospitality series before the release of WH14 at the release party in Phoenix on Labor Day Weekend.

Click On The ThumbNails & Choose To Either DownLoad or Stream…Enjoy

(Note: This post has absolutely nothing to do with the first day of class, other than the fact it happened to be today)

I guess I should have expected to have to deal with the roommate situation someday. After all, he’s got three, and even though they’re not like Rosemary, who’s in the room whenever she’s not in class, it’s not easy to find a good chunk of time roommate free. Thus I found myself sitting on the couch next to The Chemist, who prodded me and made “let’s go to my room” gestures the whole time, and who stroked my hip with his finger while his roommates watched TV and the two of us pretended to be watching too. Maybe it’s not a big deal for guys to have their friends know they’re in their room hooking up with a girl, and maybe I’m just being a sissy about it but I care! I care!

In the end I sucked it up, and if I were prone to blushing, my face would have been so red walking away to The Chemist’s room. And now I feel a little dirty, because they know, not that they wouldn’t have known anyway. But they know!

In related and happier news, I think I’m past the phase I went through where I didn’t even like The Chemist as a person. Note that this doesn’t translate into “I want him to be my boyfriend and have hot monkey sex with him”. No, it’s more like “he’s a cool person that I can connect enough with to not want to kill myself after spending three hours with him”. Which isn’t saying much, but it’s more than I would have said a few weeks ago. Also I promised him a tit-job next time. Wth does that sound so crass?

In unrelated news, I went to a party with Buttercup and Jasmine tonight. I’m still feeling grossed out enough from Crew Guy’s party that I didn’t want to drink much, but I thought I could do four shots and be fine. (False!) I downed one shot of Bacardi and felt halfway on my way to puking, which is not where I should be after one shot (I can usually do seven-eight no problem, and as long as I have half a bottle of water I’ll be okay (but not stellar) the next morning). But after one shot had my tummy spinning and throat burning for five minutes after it was down the hatch, I thought “No, no more. I dont care if it means I wont have fun tonight”.

So I sat and watched while they played King’s Cup and tried to ignore the guy sitting across from me who was staring at me the entire night. No, well, that’s not true. When he first sat down, I caught him gazing at me kind of intently, which—I dont mind, I just dont know how to react when they’re so shameless like that. So I looked away and forgot about him. After we had left Buttercup and Jasmine told me they’d both noticed Creepy Dude staring at me the entire night. Then there was this Russian guy, who if he’d been hotter would have found a warmer reception to the glances Buttercup said he’d been sending me.

We left early because Buttercup was on medicine and couldn’t drink, Jasmine had had a little to drink but wasn’t drunk enough that she was having fun, and I was too repulsed by anything mildly alcoholic to want to have more to do with it than hand people beers out of the minifridge I was sitting next to. We went back to Buttercup’s apartment and laid on the ground and talked about boys. I told them about The Chemist, and how I dont know how the fuck to define our relationship, and I said “Really, all I want right now in a guy is wit and for him to be hot.” It’s a little shallow of me, but I’ve always known that about myself. That’s when Buttercup said, “I honestly think you could get any guy you wanted.” And repeated it later in the night.

I…dont even know how I feel about that comment. Flattering defenitely. True, probably not so much. (Here’s the part my fantastic ego comes in) But I dont think it’s completely untrue either, which is all I’m going to say on the subject.

Other than that there was a lot of heart-to-heart-ing about guys, and I’m the kind of person that…I love to make sexual comments and blatantly check out guys on the street in front of my friends, so I come across as a promiscuous horny chick (this is why The Chemist doesn’t believe I’ve never had sex), but when it comes to actually telling people about my sex/love life or lack thereof, I’m never secure enough to reveal any real vulnerability. Which is why it suprised me how open I was, for me at least. I think it was because Jasmine and Buttercup were both very open (VERY open) about their own love complexities and I felt like I had to share too. And I like that I have friends now that I can really be girlfriends with. I’ve never had that.

On the horizon: parties up to my neck and lunchdates with old friends. What I really hope is that by Saturday I’ll have gotten over my disgust of alcohol enough that I wont be stone cold sober at a party full of drunk college kids.

checkin this shit out. iguana rocks, uma rocks, tacos pepe rocks…. we rock!

Videos made from Pictures and Videos taken at the Aberaeron Festival of Welsh Ponies and Cobs 2009