So. fucking. tired.
Drove to Columbia and back yesterday for the Lucero show, which was not nearly long enough. But any amount of time seeing them, really, is good, singing along and dancing a little in place, by myself, watching the lights change and play off tattooed arms, ripped jeans, black t-shirts and sweatshirts...
I really hate the bangs-in-the-face, sheepish-looking indie rock kid look. I can't stand it. It always seems to come with hunched shoulders and a need to stand around in the back at shows looking like they've never smiled in their lives. I prefer goths. At least the morbidness and self-absorption comes with a sense of play about clothing, rather than a uniform of band T-shirt, jeans, Converse, blackframe glasses, and a haircut that matches your boyfriend's.
I am going to see Twwly and Cash in a few days. You are jealous. I have lots of excuses to wear cute clothes. Maybe I'll even buy some. I don't own enough and around here, I have no reason to get dressed up.
Right now, I'm feeling a sort of sixties-seventies glam rock/Rolling Stones look, with a healthy dose of Maria Schneider in
Last Tango in Paris. I think it comes from noticing that the cheap ($20!) jeans I bought for work with some stretch and flare actually flatter my body shape. That, and realizing that no matter how many rock bands come and go, the Stones and Bowie will always be fucking cooler.
I want my hair to grow.
This is an extremely shallow journal entry. But, well, we're on a site devoted to nekkid ladies.
So I'm going to go paint my nails and wonder if my phone will ring again. Already got one of those useless phone calls from N. ("Hey. What are you doing?" "Nothing" "Oh. Um...do you happen to have Tony's phone number?" "Yeah..." "Okay. Cool. So what are you doing?" "Nothing. I'm fucking tired." "Yeah, me too." "So go to bed." "Yeah. You working tomorrow?" "Of course I am." "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. . .") I wonder if he simply calls because he needs something and tries to pretend that he wants to talk to me, or if he wants to talk to me and tries to pretend that he needs something.
Either way, he needn't. I'm turning over a new leaf. Boys who say nice things to me and about me. It's good stuff.
Drove to Columbia and back yesterday for the Lucero show, which was not nearly long enough. But any amount of time seeing them, really, is good, singing along and dancing a little in place, by myself, watching the lights change and play off tattooed arms, ripped jeans, black t-shirts and sweatshirts...
I really hate the bangs-in-the-face, sheepish-looking indie rock kid look. I can't stand it. It always seems to come with hunched shoulders and a need to stand around in the back at shows looking like they've never smiled in their lives. I prefer goths. At least the morbidness and self-absorption comes with a sense of play about clothing, rather than a uniform of band T-shirt, jeans, Converse, blackframe glasses, and a haircut that matches your boyfriend's.
I am going to see Twwly and Cash in a few days. You are jealous. I have lots of excuses to wear cute clothes. Maybe I'll even buy some. I don't own enough and around here, I have no reason to get dressed up.
Right now, I'm feeling a sort of sixties-seventies glam rock/Rolling Stones look, with a healthy dose of Maria Schneider in
Last Tango in Paris. I think it comes from noticing that the cheap ($20!) jeans I bought for work with some stretch and flare actually flatter my body shape. That, and realizing that no matter how many rock bands come and go, the Stones and Bowie will always be fucking cooler.
I want my hair to grow.
This is an extremely shallow journal entry. But, well, we're on a site devoted to nekkid ladies.
So I'm going to go paint my nails and wonder if my phone will ring again. Already got one of those useless phone calls from N. ("Hey. What are you doing?" "Nothing" "Oh. Um...do you happen to have Tony's phone number?" "Yeah..." "Okay. Cool. So what are you doing?" "Nothing. I'm fucking tired." "Yeah, me too." "So go to bed." "Yeah. You working tomorrow?" "Of course I am." "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. . .") I wonder if he simply calls because he needs something and tries to pretend that he wants to talk to me, or if he wants to talk to me and tries to pretend that he needs something.
Either way, he needn't. I'm turning over a new leaf. Boys who say nice things to me and about me. It's good stuff.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
twwly:
Sorry sweetie, we were out all day yesterday. Allll day. It was a lonnnng day. We have too many errands to run for me to be able to duck out to NYC for the bulk of the day, sadly.
thefuckoffkid:
I'm sorry, is it just me, or is this rather an overreation? 