Do you believe there is intelligent life on other planets?
"I'll tell you one thing about the universe, though. The universe is a pretty big place. It's bigger than anything anyone has ever dreamed of before. So if it's just us... seems like an awful waste of space. Right?" ~Ellie Arroway, Contact.
That about sums it up, yo.
When is the last time you stayed up all night?
Around this time last year, when I was staying at Rowena's Lodge. On more than one occasion did the crew and I spend the night out on the town, and not get back until after the pubs all closed at five in the morning. We...liked to party. A lot. :D
I kinda miss them sometimes, and I wish they'd made a better effort to stay in touch. But I guess that's what I get for being the one from this side of the world that they were visiting... and I won't be doing my travelling for a few years yet. Le sigh.
Eh, bien. Life goes on.
...we hope. It better be PMS that's screwing with my hormones and making things all weird. And things are, indeed, weird. For one, my bladder has all the holding capacity of a leaking clay mug. I swear, I can't sleep the whole night and usually beat my alarm clock to wakefulness, because of nature calls. It's like the stuff just goes right through me.
I've also noted at least two pairs of pants that can come to dig uncomfortably in my gut, suggesting bloating (I'm a poor and starving student, I'm hardly facing any sort of weight gain, I don't think). Bloating sucks. I don't usually bloat. The list goes on.
Hell, there's the cravings. Sunday night I got this random craving for beer of all things. Now, while I do enjoy the occassional beer, I'm not really a big drinker of it, and I sure as hell don't crave it. Usually. But then there's the other craving: apple pie and whipped cream. Seriously, that just came outta left field, I'm tellin' ya.
However there is this, uh, slight... fear... worry... that it's not PMS. I'm really hoping it is. It's just, um, about three weeks ago I took up with a guy, and there's been at least one occasion where the condom slipped off, and he wasn't sure if it happened before or after he came. And if it was after, at about the time I think my body would have been most receptive...?
Oh, let it all be PMS.
When you go out to eat, how do you pick where to go?
First, consider what (if any) kind of food I'm craving. Chinese, Indian, fish 'n chips or a burger, or what? If I can't decide on that, start listing decent restaurants. Discuss with anyone I'm going with, if they have anything particular in mind. Finally land on somewhere everyone (or most everyone) agrees to, and have fun.
*nods*
Oh, yes, it helps to pick something in an affordable price-range, natrually. Heh.
So I totally don't mean to ignore this journal, except, well, I mean, I already have my livejournal. And most my friends are there, and post there. And it's not like I need another journal, I just sort of have it. But I feel guilty for neglecting it, and forgetting about it like my deadjournals. (Yes, I have two, one I snatched from a friend to post my dreams in, but that became old fast)
Anyway, I'm living in Palmerston North again. I quite possibly pissed off Grant since I nglected to a) keep up contact over the summer and b) tell him I wasn't coming back to Wellington. There's also the part where I never exactly ended things with him, because I'm a fucking coward. I mean, I loathed that sort of behaviour in my exes, and then I went and did it myself. Hypocrisy: table for one, please. For whatever reason I can'r bring myself to feel remorse, which in itself is rather horrible of me, too. But damn, I'm kinda glad to be rid of him. (Yes, I am horrible. Gods.)
I am cold and I can't seem to ever stay warm. Damn, I'm going to be miserable this winter, aren't I? Le sigh.
I've got a ticket for three to the 80's Prom at The Establishment. It's tonight. I've persuaded Katja to come with, and I sent a text to Grant but I haven't got a reply. He could be busy or simply not interested. Anyway, Katja and I have been discussing the horrible 80's trends and their current return. I mean, there were some good things, and good music, that came out of the 80's... but there was also some really, really horrible stuff.
Still, it should be interesting. At the very least there's a free drink involved... and who knows what might happen? It's more interesting than sitting around watching TV on a Friday night, that's for sure.
What do you collect?
Livejournal icons, teaspoons, coins, books, random junk, stuff to do with dragons, faeries, vampires, Cancer the crab, July, my name or the letter H... all sorts of stuff.
Please let your children know!
Police are warning all men who frequent clubs, parties and local pubs to be alert and stay cautious when offered a drink from any woman. Many females use a date rape drug on the market called "Beer."
The drug is found in liquid form and is available anywhere. It comes in bottles, cans, or from taps and in large "kegs". Beer is used by female sexual predators at parties and bars to persuade their male victims to go home and sleep with them. A woman needs only to get a guy to consume a few units of Beer and then simply ask him home for no strings attached sex.
Men are rendered helpless against this approach After several beers, men will often succumb to the desires to sleep with horrific looking women whom they would never normally be attracted. After drinking beer, men often awaken with only hazy memories of exactly what happened to them the night before, often with just a vague feeling that "something bad" occurred.
At other times these unfortunate men are swindled out of their life's savings, in a familiar scam known as "a relationship." In extreme cases, the female may even be shrewd enough to entrap the unsuspecting male into a longer term form of servitude and punishment referred to as "marriage." Men are much more susceptible to this scam after beer is administered and sex is offered by the predatory females.
If you fall victim to this "Beer" scam and the women administering it, there are male support groups where you can discuss the details of your shocking encounter with similarly victimized men. For the support group nearest you, look up "Golf Courses" in the phone book.
What's your motto?
"You can pick your friends. You can pick your nose. But you can't pick your friend's nose." Joking. Seriously, though, I'd say I'm all for, "Live for today because yesterday is gone and tomorrow...might not be." Or something like that. Or there's always, "Que sera sera." What will be, will be.
Went to a play-reading last night. That was interesting. Felt rather bad for Grant, 'cause it was his play...like, the first time it was being read by other people, and critiqued... I don't think I could do it, on the off chance I ever wrote a play. And then there was the... gah. It was really funny. Even if I hadn't been familiar with Fitz, Alex, and Enderby, I would have been laughing my arse off just the same.
I do understand that it does need to be cut, in order to fit into a certain length of time. And even that whole scenes could be dropped and others reduced. In some parts, it would improve the play, because good as it was, there were moments when my eyes were starting to glaze over. Still, it was awfully hard on Grant, having his baby poked and prodded and laid open like that.
And then there was this stupid, stupid thing... see, the whole point of the play is just that it's a comedy, something funny involving some of Grant's beloved characters from other media. But because it's a New Zealand play, it's like, they think there should be some deeper meaning/message/commentary that people are supposed to take away with them. Which is stupid. I like it best as merely a funny play, and sure it lightly touches on animal rights (two of the main characters are a bunny and a hedgehog, for gossakes), and politics (she runs for Prime Minister!*), but, ultimately, it's just a very funny play about a 2' tall evil cute pink bunny who not only makes ambitious plans but gets away with them. But of course that's just too simple for some idiotic literary snobbish pricks.
*This isn't particularly spoilery, since it happened in the comics which have been running for 13 years. In fact, many of the scenes and situations brought up in the play were familiar territory for anyone who's read Brunswick. But at the same time, it's a whole new media and story, like out of some parallel universe or something.
Anyway, I had a good time, and we went out for drinks after... ended up at the Sports Bar where Grant's flatmate's band Uncle Monkey... or was it Monkey's Uncle? Uncle Monkey. Anyway, they were performing. Quite good. They did this Cat Steven's song, and the guy singing sounded JUST like Cat Stevens. It was cool.
"We" being Grant, me, Amy that I met last Saturday, her cousin David, and another friend of Grant's, Bret. It was interesting 'cause I discussed hair straightening with David--he works at Whitcoull's, and he called them out when they said he could wear anything to work, even a dress, and he wears a dress to work... well, he's got quite curly hair and he's growing it out, but they won't let him wear the dress and also have long curly hair. So he's seeking advice concerning straightening his hair.
Bret is a big sci-fi fan, so I talked a lot about that with him, not to mention, he's seen Firefly and Serenity. We were laughing about some fandoms where we've never actually seen/read much of the original material, but through a sort of osmosis of being around fans, picked up a whole lot of information and such. Plus there was the sharing of stuff that I didn't know about, or he didn't know much about, that sort of thing.
Oh, I completely forgot to mention that I met Amy. Um, when I was over at Grant's on Saturday. We drank wine and ate cheese, and Amy came over for a bit. Nice girl, very Fitz-like. She's done some of the vocals for the animated version of Brunswick, including Fitz. After she'd left, I got to see Rocky Horror Picture Show for the first time. Very amused. Much love for Tim Curry.
If you could watch any movie on the big screen right at this moment, what would it be?
Call me weird or what-have-you... but Independence Day. *grins*
Also, 'cause it'sshe's so very cute, FITZ BUNNY dancing.
