Hahaha

I am repulsive

Normally I am the best drinker ever. By which I mean I hit tipsy quickly and maintain it without falling into the the sloshing around with underwear on head raging kind of drunk (I do get silly, but I get silly without liquor if I'm in the right mix--bless my f'ed brain chemisry for that). I don't get sick, maybe a little headache-y the next day. Because of this I usually roll my eyes at other folks post-party woes, playing the part of Miss-Drunky-Know-It-All. Since I spent most of yesterday going from toilet to bed toilet ot bed, with a stop on the floor for good measure, I want to apologize. First to all those hungover schmoes who've come before me; who's pain I found quaint as I sipped coffee and ate eggs and listened to loud, happy music. And secondly to myself, because goddamn I haven't hurt that badly in a long time. Probably I should have known what I was in for when I opted to bring a bottle of Jameson and my own shot glass to a party full of people I only half-know. Social awkwardness=bottle to lips. Probably should not have indulged at all consdering the roaring sinus infection that's plagued me all week. But I am dumb and was wearing a costume and I was very relieved that the slutty costumes of he previous night made way for the more maturely creepy costumes of my almost friends (Hellion as naaaasty Boy Scout leader, Luna as shiny faced, yellow-suited, creep the hell out of everyone bank robber) and some legitimately sexy costumes (Foxy as the Bride from Kill Bill in a yellow jumpsuit that would look ridiculous on anyone besides a six-foot blonde). I went with Enid because I had to scrub the perfect off from the night before. Low and behold a handful of the best people got it. Not that that really matters after what now seems like half a million shots of whiskey. Ryan, I mean, Zombie Elvis, M.D., was a real trooper playing designated driver at a party full of people he hardly knows and with none of the nipple slippage of the last derby outing he attended. Since I'm at about 85% today I can look back fondly--I think hangovers may be like giving birth, the pain is forgotten so that you can fall right back into the trap agian.

A wee bit o'home

Hooray a Cards World Series! I am only a casual fan at best, but I was the lame-o at the Halloween party tonight who kept turning on the tv to check the score. I didn't watch because in general I find I'm bad luck, just checked the score and went back to the room filled with seriously some of the skankiest costumes I've ever seen. And by that I mean we referred to one of the girls as the Naked Girl as in, "Oh, looks like the Naked Girl is back." I think she was a devil, but she was wearing chaps and a thong and seriously I don't understand the appeal of that because everyone in the room has to try not to look at you (even if they want to). I mean if that's what you want... Me, I wanted to dress like this Which I passed off as 'Stepford Wife' but really it was just about being pulled together and 'perfect'--antithesis of actual April. Of course since it was just a costume the wig liked to wiggle it's way up my scalp.
(um, tech diff at moment--pic later)
My real party is tomorrow (tonight was a semi-birthday party for my teammate Royal who just turned 21 which explains the co-ed in assless chaps). I'm still figuring out what I want to do--probably some sort of zombie variation, Maybe on tonight's costume even. Tired and going to bed...

Enforced Deadlines

So I'm going to cave-in and do it. Mostly because I finally remebered it before November was halfway over. NaNoWriMo, my bloody little typing fingers are all yours.

Or we could discuss mental health.

Holy Jesus I feel like every bone has been sucked out of my body and I am just a limp sack of skin. That's how I feel. I need to start charting because I think this happens a lot this time of year, but I also think I tend to have a lot more spikes of energy and madness as well, which just hasn't been the case. Hmmm.

I promise more scintillating entry later, but I HAVE SOMEWHERE TO BE IN 45 MINUTES AND IT WILL TAKE ME THAT LONG TO FINISH GETTING DRESSED.

How we combat Nellie

We post a picture of ourselves that is lovely (if a bit of a lie--it is a picture of me, but rarely do my features achieve harmony like this) and we pat ourselves on the back and sing inspirational hymns. To ourselves, of course, after all not everyone finds Come Sail Away to be the anthem of self-love and emotional highs that we do. We will also use the royal we because it makes us feel as though we are big and strong like China and not cold and pointless like Antarctica. We are NICE to people in a saucy way, because this kind of demeanor is what brings us the most success at work, in derby, in life. For some abject cruelty fuels the fire, for others it's an air of the debonair. For us it is telling people how great they are in a non-gushing way and throwing a wink and a smile like a certain girl we once knew named Aimee. We also try to get some goddamn sleep because four to five hours just ain't cuttin' it especially now that the weather is frosty and we would prefer to stay underneath blankets and dream about being fantastic instead of actually being fantastic. The exhaustion alone is enough to throw a gauzy haze over everything so that Nellie might whisper in our ear about the terrible condition of the world and our even more terrible addition to it. We have to believe her in this state as we cannot see for ourselves that we are kind of great if we only remember to be silly once in awhile. We are starting to sound effete, and so we will end this rambly affirmation

No Confidence Nellie

That's it. It's who I am and it's why my brain is mush and if anyone could sell me just a little bit I'd gladly give you my fortune. Seriously, thinking I'm a worthless piece of shit has made me a boring, useless piece of shit and I just can't deal.

For the Record

My knee isn't busted up like it was last March. It's just if I fall on it wrong, I get a funny bone effect going. This maybe means I should stay away from contact, but I don't wanna. Seriously, I am fine. Besides I am totally reinvigorated derby wise because I feel like the combination of new sticky wheels combined with lots o' excercisin' is starting to pay off. I'm getting a little speedier. Not A LOT speedier, but still. Plus under my layers of cookie weight there real solid masses of muscle growing which just makes me feel real tough (so tough I have dreams about doing infinite pull ups!??). Sorry, just got home from practice and have a nice skating euphoria going on. One thing I need to learn--How to hit harder! I think I hit okay hard, but I want a wallop to end all wallops. Hopefully increased speediness and muscliness will help. God I can't believe this is going to be a post. But it is.

Updates

Because I think some may care here are some quick updates before I shuffle off to dreamland:

Ryan was horribly ill yesterday, weak and whiny and asleep the entire day. I've been downing Airborne like it's going to prevent something, but am sorta achy myself.

We saw the Departed today. Good fun!

Also my dad an brother are in town which means it's been toilet talk all day. If anyone has every wonder at my curious personality, one must only meet my mother and then spend a day with my father, and there it is.

So that big long book post, I have engaged a new solution: Time Traveler's Wife. God bless this perfect perfect book (which may actually have been the instigator of my ruin).

Derby: Ultimate frustration this week as my knee is all twingy. Since I am only on this trave team by the skin of coincidence, I feel re-al bad having to sit out at practice. Which means I don't, until I can't go anymore. Stoopid but determined not to suck it up.

The end.

(Oh yeah, my house is CLEAN. I can walk into room without tripping over laundry or fossilized dinner plates. Seriously now is the time to see the place--it can't last long!)

Here we go...

I stole this from Phronemophobia . It made me throw up in my mouth.

Tough customer

We had our OHRG awards banquet this Saturday. Everybody got dolled up and then got drunk and slightly less dolllike. Lots of debauchery to be had if you're into that sort of thing.
And I am.
For the masucline description check out Ryan's blog.
I got no trophy (boo) but did manage to end up a 'nominee' for 'Skater to Watch Next Year' I didn't really expect that anyone would think to write me in at all, so to see my picture flashed big on the screen was a weirdo surprise. By that point in the evening I was toasty (as Hellion puts it), so I didn't even flinch! Sah-weet!
I'm trying to come up with somehting to be for Halloween. Any suggestion will be considered. I had a string of years there where I had clever movie tie-in costumes, but I haven't had a good one in a few years. I actually have a party-party to go to, not just a random assemblage of nattily dressed folk, so I feel the need to have something charming. Costumes for girls are always so slutty, and while I don't mind this so much on other people, I just don't have the motivation to be tits out as a sexy witch or sexy pirate or sexy bumblebee or whatever. If I bought one of these costumes I'd inevitably spend the entire night hiding under a pillow or a blanket or someone's coat. I don't know why I'm not a real girl, I'm just not , okay?
Okay I think I spilled enough beans out of head to sleep for the night. I promise someday this blog will return to is former technicolor madness. But lately I just need to use it to empty the ol' cabeza.
I had a dream last night about a painting that I should do. I'm considering embracing the ethereal and doing it. But then I'm also considering: cutting my hair into a short bob--this never looks as good a when it's long but it does give me a little more spunk; actually forming sentences on paper that lead to paragraphs and chapters and the like; falling asleep right on the keyboard. Seriously I am all the sudden exhausted even liftin' my bones to type. The end.