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"If you're rich and have magic like Magic Johnson, you will no longer have HIV."
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| Apparently I am leaving very early Wednesday morning to fly out to San Diego for Comic-Con. This is much later than the Sunday night I had previously been told, but that just gives me longer to chill with good friends that will miss me while I'm off across the country being a geek. Rock. So today, I have been laying in bed all day crocheting cupcakes and watching cartoons and stand-up by Dave Attell. I'm starting to get hungry, rawr. I'll fix something to eat real quick then get in the shower. I'll still have plenty of time to watch Fear Itself (Steve Niles zombie episode FTW) and then I'm off to the midnight screening of The Dark Knight with my dad and sister. Uhh can someone give me a FUCK YES?
Also, because I never post pictures, here's me terrorizing Holly with a fake Wii controller. You can't tell what the fuck it is in the picture though. It just looks like a big white rectangle or something. Apparently geometry scares the shit out of her.
We also play card games at 2 in the morning. (And scream at each other's faces?)
Then we headbang for absolutely no reason.
Also note that her hair is longer than mine, so she can do that metal thing where you swing your head in circles and I can not. When she does it, she looks like a tiny girl version of Nathan Explosion. When I do it, it just looks like my head it on fire. I also can't do it without making retarded t-rex arms, but I won't show you that. Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, Holly is my younger sister. I don't think we look anything alike but maybe someone out there can see the resemblance...? I doubt it though.
Anyway, my tummy is a-rumblin, so food times for Kitsune. Ciao. | comments: Leave a comment   |
| Holy balls, did I seriously just add a bunch of new icons? Yes. Yes I did. The old one was like, a berjillion years old, so fuck it. I needed ones of me with recent hair. Go lookit and be happy, yo.
Other news... there isn't any. G'night. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| When was the last time I posted an entry? Too long, that's how long!
So my hair is long and pink now. Evidence!
You can't tell how long it is because it's all pulled back, but I assure you, it's like the longest it's been in practically forever. It's kind of weird but also kind of exciting. I might get it trimmed and dye it blue soon though! We'll see! Also, no, I am not going to explain where I am in those pictures. It's complicated.
Also, I'm going to Comic-Con at the end of July. I'm pretty stoked about it, actually. I'll get to see a lot of people I respect immensely (Bryan Lee O'Malley, Lynda Barry, and Kim Deitch will ALL be there... fuck yes!) as well as some people I miss a whole ton. If luck works in our favor, I'll get to see Illyria for the first time since Texas, so that's fucking exciting as shit. But, I mean, there's nothing about this situation that sucks. It's fucking Comic-Con, dude. Thumbs up for my job.
Hmm. I don't have much else to say right now. I might return to the ol' LJ once things get exciting in my life again. Right now it's just childish drama and one-night stands galore. Not too much else going on. Yawn.
Sorry my journals always suck, guys. :/ | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| This shouldn't even make sense right now and it's not even what happened but reading Lost At Sea, right now, it makes sense. This is what I feel. Oh my god.
Ralleigh: I...
Steph: Hey... it's okay. Just relax.
Ralleigh: No, there's... I mean... wait. I have to-- I have something on my chest.
Steph: ...Oh. Well, I dunno how I'd be at-- Well, I mean, I don't know. But you should say it, I guess.
Ralleigh: Like... well, say there was a girl, and a guy, and started talking a lot. On the internet, and later on the phone. And more and more. And they talked about everything and it was really, like, the best talking that either of them'd ever had. What if he was a couple years older, and in university, and American. What if she was still in high school, and, and a year or so, maybe more--a year or so had passed since they started talking, and she was graduating. And he invited her to visit.
Steph: In California.
Ralleigh: It could have been in California. *ahem* So what if she went to California and met him and everything went beautifully and she left to go home at the predetermined time, with her predetermined return ticket for the train, and he left her at the train station because he had to work, and found this letter in her bag and she started crying like a baby because she just couldn't help it. And she missed her train. What if that?
Steph: What did the letter say?
Ralleigh: I--she--I--we didn't open it. I couldn't open it. It was too much. It's unopened.
Steph: That's like... It's... it's like carrying a nuke around in your bag, man. So... uh... what happened next...?
Ralleigh: My phone rang.
Steph: Your ph--
Ralleigh: My phone rang, and it was you.
Steph: Oh my god.
Ralleigh: You guys were on some great end-of-school self-discovery road trip thing, and I totally fucking crashed it. And it was all--it--you called me by ACCIDENT. It was an ACCIDENT! I... I found my soul.
Steph: In one of the cats?
Ralleigh: N-no, I mean... before. It's... I came here, to California, to get it back, I think? And I did. I totally did. I got it back. I had it in my hand and I smiled this total Buddha smile. And then he was gone, and all I had was this letter and this emptiness again. And then I was in a car with you guys. And I'm a total shit, aren't I? I'm an antisocial monster. I'm such a fuckup. I'm--I'm--I'm a mediocre fuckup, even. I'm not even good at fucking up!!! He might not love me?? That's cause for a fucking breakdown?! What is this?? I'm stupid! I feel stupid! I'm horrible!!
Steph: No... no. I mean, no. It's--it's all--valid. You're allowed to feel fucked up. You're not horrible. You're amazing. You dazzle. I mean, you just made friends with us in two days. Look at you. You're our new best friend. You're MY new best friend.
Ralleigh: I haven't had a best friend since grade 8. Four years, six months... um...
Steph: Grade 6 for me. All the girls in high school seemed, like... I dunno. Useless? But you... I always thought you were so fucking cool, Ralleigh.
Ralleigh: Are--are you serious? If so, you were so, so, so amazingly wrong.
Steph: I was not wrong. Not even. You're so cool. You're like the coolest person ever. And anyway, I know you're all fucked up or whatever, but, I mean, so am I, okay? So's everyone. Or everyone I know, anyway. Look at Dave and Ian!
Ralleigh: Dave seems... um, kind of normal, in a way...
Steph: Dave is so fucked up! Don't even get me started on that guy.
Ralleigh: But you guys--you-- you seem to have it all figured out. You know? You DEAL.
Steph: As if you don't? What do you call this shit? Look at you--god, half an hour part your life's great trauma and you're stuck in a car with three crazy assholes you hardly know? You're dealing with a lot. A LOT.I'd be dead if I was you.
Ralleigh: I'm... I'm dead. I think I'm dead. Seriously.
Steph: You're not dead. Shut up. Look at you. You're alive. You're fucking hardcore. You're-- Fuck... I don't know.
Ralleigh narration: I guess I never have any answers. Just the same pointless question, over and over, every day: why am I so fucked up why am I so fucked up why am I so fucked up why am I so fucked up. Maybe that's just mental. Maybe I should stop. Maybe I already have. Maybe it's important to open up to people--people who are right there with you, not some thousand miles away in another universe. Or maybe that's something else. Maybe I should just settle for not knowing. Maybe it's good just to know what you're not the only one who doesn't know. Maybe... maybe I should stop thinking. Maybe I'll shut the fuck up. I don't understand exactly what's happened, and I'm bad at putting things together in any meaningful way, but tonight is important-- this moment is important.
That shouldn't be as painful as it is. It shouldn't be, and it's not, and I'm still running a fever and I just tried to eat some pasta and I threw it up like I knew I would. Maybe I need to just leave for now. Maybe I need to stop thinking about what's happened and what's going to happen. Maybe I need to sleep this off.
I know I can't sleep this off and it will never get better. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Well jesus fucking christ almighty god fucking owowowowowowowww.
"Lose Yourself" by Eminem has somehow forced tears from my eyes.
I've been writing all night, and drinking in between words. Nothing's happening. There's nothing left to say and so much left to drink. I kind of feel like I've let someone down too, but I can't put my finger on who yet. It can't be me, because I have no expectations for myself. I like to be pleasently surprised. Or something like that. But the truth is, I kept saying "I'm not going to drink, I'm not going to drink" and this is my fourth vodka and lemonade. IN A HIGHBALL GLASS. I'm not kidding. I'm kind of disappointed that I'm not convulsing and stabbing myself with scissors by this point. I just keep crying and listening to old parapara music.
My throat burns when I breathe. I think it's time to either stop or put more alcohol in this thang. Yes I said "thang". No I will not take it back.
So instead of talking about it, I'm going to call up my adorable cousin and plan for us to get matching tattoos. We used to be BFFs, but I live in the city and she lives WAY the fuck out in Breckinridge so we hardly get to see each other. We went to Charlie Daniels earlier tonight and we're planning on getting ink after I get home from Texas and I've got the money. We might get our noses pierced too. She flipped when she saw my tunnels (she was a little drunk and stuck her fingers right through my ears, haha) and now she kind of wants her septum pierced. We might get both sides of our noses done, or maybe our nipples. But we're def getting tattoos sometime before December, and we kind of want to get matching ones. Most people are like "oh don't, matching tattoos are so dorky" but we are FAMILY. It's not like getting matching tattoos with your boyfriend or your current best friend. She's living with her brother now in the city, and we plan on hanging out more often and being as close as we were when we were little, and tattoos are a step in that direction. Don't try to talk me out of this kids, because she means the world to me and we really want to do this. It's not the alcohol talking.
Fuck. Maybe it is.
Kelsey's in the pink and white. The other girl is Katie, who's a total sweetie. I'm going to be spending a ton of time with those girls and I'm excited as fuck about it. We'll be running around like Charlie's Angels, which is funny on a lot of levels, after coming home from a Charlie Daniels concert together. Okay, so it's not. Whatever. Eat my shit.
On kind of a random note here, someone (Paul) mentioned to me earlier today, that I would've made an excellent Nosferatu for Halloween. It took me a second to realize that he didn't mean the German film, but actually the race of vampires from the 30 Of Night mythos.
I almost laughed at loud at his reason WHY I would've made such a great Steve Niles girl. It wasn't that I had the facial features or I would've made a "hot vamp" (a joke I'm sick of hearing, by the way) but because of my penchant for biting. Yes, I know you've all seen the picture (and if you haven't just keep reading) of my bruises on my chest, which were the result of me REQUESTING to be bitten during sex. The sex wasn't with Paul, but that's not the point. The part of the conversation I found so funny was that I give him chills the same way Megan Franich gives him chills. She played Iris in 30 Days Of Night, for those uneducated.
I'm a little amused that the boys I have sex with flinch when I kiss them. The girls seem to be more or less okay with it, and are fine with me drawing blood. But for some weird reason, guys that I have sex with become used to flinching every time they feel my lips on their skin. Lips, collarbone, neck, chest, all of it. My lips graze the skin and they do everything but whimper. "Let go" seems to be a popular phrase now, in regards to getting my damn teeth out of their flesh. I dunno, maybe I AM a vampire. It certainly would explain this recent bloodlust involving a certain boy. Somehow the phrase "she made me her Renfield" doesn't quite cover it all, but close. Checkmate, Niles.
(Oh fuck, that reminds me. I'm not even in the mood to yell at Max, after I said I would. I really need to, but no. I am drunk and that would make things a lot fucking worse, because I know how I get when I'm drunk and then mad. Whatever. I'll deal with him later.)
I haven't even mentioned Sara's party from last night. It was fun, hanging out with girls who aren't catty and mean. I also got to see this loser again, after like a year of not seeing him and barely talking online.
He was a total retard and we didn't say much. Mostly stuff about Duck Hunt and photography. He's kind of an asshole now, but whatever. I managed not to cry when I saw him, though my heart sank a little further into my pointy ribs than was comfortable, so I threw myself into photography and random conversation. I'm going to be in an arts-n-crafts group with Sara and Vanessa now, apparently. It's going to be awesome, because we all crochet and I'm going to teach them to make cupcakes. I'm still surprised at how well I got along with a group of strangers. Besides Sara (okay, and Mica) I didn't know anybody, and I didn't start a fight or ANYTHING. I'm proud of myself.
Let's see, what else can I talk about... Team Cupcake? Okay, sweet.
That was from last Friday, though I'm sure most of you already saw the picture of the lovely TC ladies. In the picture, that's Wallace, Stina, Danny, and Kristen. You already know my big face, and Ronald McDonald is not in the fucking club. We all get along fucking amazingly and our first meeting is December 7th. There are other people joining, such as Sara,
(also the only picture of me from the Mariah's party last night, because I'm the photographer and that's how I roll son)
Alex,
Kailli,
Kailli's little brother Keitan,
(yes, he's THAT kid)
Jinx,
Becca,
and probably a few other people. Jessica's thinking of joining, and speaking of, we've got a date with Taco Bell sometime before Texas. I'm excited. I never get to talk to her, but she's one of the sweetest people you'll ever meet in your life. And we're going to eat fake Mexican food. Because we are Cool and you are Fail.
asdjr31fkhgjyhf7kfujryfijdfyrs2safsdhgk76mhfljtdghbsfdh000000fhnfk0m4 she's so fucking CUTE!
And now that's I've bombed your friends pages with pictures of people you don't know and don't care about, and I'M bombed from too much all-kee-hawl, I'm going to fucking bed. Maybe. I might just lie on the bare matress and scrawl words into a notebook you'll never get to see. And before you all fawn over how interesting my non-life is, I left out all the good parts.
Night-night, bitches!
(This is old, but I never get over that makeup. I make a badass Filthy Assistant, don't I? And sorry, most of you won't get the Warren Ellis joke thrown in for good measure. But whatever, fuck most of you anyway.)
Sugar,
Kit
PS - Warren Ellis loves them, how about you?
And YES WE HAVE SEX. YES WE USE TEETH. I DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR PRETEND FEELINGS ANYMORE, ROBOT WOMAN. YOU DO NOT CARE AND I ENJOY FUCKING HIM. GET OVER IT ALREADY.
That is all. :3 | | comments: Leave a comment |
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"If you're rich and have magic like Magic Johnson, you will no longer have HIV."
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