GIN ISN'T SO MUCH A DRINK, IT'S MORE A MASCARA THINNER
G'day khunts. I'm not even gonna work under a premise that this entry is going to be held together by some unifying crux, cuz it ain't. All I can promise is dizzing gush of beautiful diatribe. Been in much better spirits the past few days, not sure why, well, I can think of a few reasons, the Peaches concert was amazing last week, so, so, so inspired, it really meant a lot to me, which sounds dicky & ridiculous but it's true, I don't think there's anyone else messing with femininity/the theatre of rock'n'roll like she is (AND I got to meet her afterwards, well I was too starstruck to say anything but I smiled and mouthed 'hey'). Also I'm going to see Scissor Sisters this week, which should be brillo (all this for free! Viva la music-press gravy train (I also get free tix to Golden Plains... it sorta makes up for my amusingly low (below-minimum) wage. Went to my friend Lisa's 30th last night, she made paella & I picked out the chicken & went nuts with the mussels (reminder: don't use a figure of speech that denotes a type of food in a sentence about food, it confuses the readers). Anyhow stuck around there until two, all the people at the party left were dedicated pissheads, but then all these 30 year olds were sorta getting a bit touchy feely on the couch across from me -- I'm talking partner swapping kinda touchy feely -- I truly believe the party was one drink away from descending into group sex, it was grossing me out a bit, so I left to go to my ex-boyfriend's house for the mega-warehouse party they were having. Got to see Spider Vomit play and they were AMAZING as I suspected, then I turned into the 'mightily drunk/slightly mental ex' & started accosting poor R.. all fun & games, no hard feelings on either side. In fact, I'm nowhere near the achey-breaky-hearted wretch I was a month ago (okay, two weeks ago, okay, a week ago), I dunno, it's all for the best, to throw a gloriously banal platitude onto the heap.
Actually, I forgot some of the joys of being single. I have heaps more time to read, I have heaps more time (full stop), ummm, I can't think of many other benefits, actually being single is a crock, but hey, I look forward to devoting more unconditional love, support and companionship to myself. And I have this strange urge to read really weighty, challenging books, which will mark a clean break from my crippling affliction for sensational biographies. Also I forgot how great getting to perv on hot people around town is, there were quite a few hotties at the party -- it was ridden with hipsters in fact (& I love a good hipster, as long as long as they can back it up with brainz).
Yes, so looking forward to being more productive in the coming month as opposed to drinking gin at home, smoking cigarettes on my porch (why did I take up smoking again? I can't remember) listening to songs like ABBA's The Winner Takes It All & making-believe that my malaise is deeply engrossing, unique & captivating. It's a waste of time & now that I have my brain (& relative sanity) back I intend to use it. That's all I really want to say.
(Whatever happened to that delightful Anne-Marie Biggar, I always thought that woman had charm & spunk, she deserved a better career on television.)