Lyrica + Peeps = how to fuck yourself up

Whoever thought that Lyrica is a fun drug, is seriously on drugs (haha, obviously). It took about 4 hours to kick in, but when it kicked in, it kicked in. The room was rotating, and I had to stumble down the hallway to the bathroom and then to the kitchen, which wasn't very pleasant. I decided that, if I'm going to feel this fucked up, I might as well have a soundtrack to it. I listened to the Germs for a bit, which was kinda nice (I'm not such a giant fan of the Germs, but I like some of their stuff). When I finally turned out the light and went to bed, I was hit with really bad night-blindness (as if there's a really nice version). So, now everything is dark, and I'm really dizzy, and when I turn over the room feels like it's spinning around me: it was a bit unpleasant. I attempted to calm myself down and remind myself that soon I would be asleep and it would be fine. I passed out and woke up at 10:26 with my phone vibrating violently. Alexis had texted me to tell me that she was sorry that she had just seen my text about the Rocky Horror Picture Show (none of my friend's were allowed to go, so I figured that we would all just see it next month). I was still really fucked up, so I decided to go back to sleep. When I finally woke up it was 12:56, I didn't feel like moving. The room was still twisting beneath me. After a few minutes of debating, I quietly got out of bed and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were like giant black holes, so I knew that I couldn't go and see my rents (they love to threaten me with drug tests every chance they get, so I try to avoid them when I'm obviously fucked up). I laid back down and waited for a half an hour, when I finally got up and stumbled back to the mirror. Although I still felt like shit, my eyes were now back to normal (I don't know what miracle occurred there). I've felt pretty fucked up all day, but I guess that's what I get for being a dumbass. I just finished cleaning my bathroom and I'm washing my sheets, but I think I'm going to take a nap. Haha, I'm still so tired, it's not even funny. The way it feels at the moment reminds me of getting really high, sitting on my bed, and the only way that I could keep myself from puking my guts out was to lean my head against the wall and keep still.

I feel like puking is so normal to me now, that it really doesn't bother me. Usually it's my fault for being dumb. The last 3 times I've taken Ambien I've puked my guts out (one of those times I puked twice, and two of those times involved Peeps, maybe there's a connection there). I remember the first time I had withdrawals, I took Ambien the third night, to finally get to sleep. The next morning I woke up around 6 a.m. and decided that I should just take some oxycodone and stop this bullshit. For the first two hours after taking it, I was totally cool, I had taken it with cranberry juice (which is very acidic). After about 2 and a half hours I'm puking up cranberry juice into a garbage bag. It was so painful, because it was my stomach acids plus the cranberry juice. Besides that time, all the times I've puked, although they have been annoying, have never really bothered me. Mostly because I'm high, so nothing really bothers me. Puking peeps is a weird experience because they are still marshmallowy and soft. I remember, still being very high after puking into a ziploc bag (only thing I could find), and kinda playing with my marshmallow vomit (as I said, I was very high) by squeezing the bag, it was pretty entertaining.

Okay, so enough of this gross puking conversation, I'll just leave you be, hopefully I can come back and say more interesting things when I'm not about to fall off my own bed. = )

For your own viewing pleasure I feel like posting my favorite scene from SLC Punk, because I love that movie... haha, I don't care what people say about it, it is an awesome movie. = )

NYC Tonight

The silence is almost deafening. I've always enjoyed being alone at night, the best out of the day. Knowing that I will be left alone for hours and hours is so comforting. I hear crickets outside, as always quietly singing. It reminds me of being a little kid down at the shore, staying in our good friend's house. Late at night, lying in bed, I could always hear the waves, feel the breeze through the open windows, and the laughter emanating from the living room. If there was a time I would like to return to, it would be then. I remember it so clearly, it seems like only a few days have passed.

I have a bandana tied around my head, for some reason that I can't quite figure out. At shows, I always see random people with bandanas tied around their heads, their short mohawks flopping over the front. Boys with bandanas tied around the lower half of their faces, bandits storming into the mosh pit. My mohawk is laying over the side, it's 7" long and gets in my eyes when I put it in front. It's tight on my head. The world is so peaceful right now, I wish I could see it this way forever. My hair smells like the salon, as I pull it into a devil lock (haha, I look so ridiculous).

Tanzen and I have been talking, mostly plotting. She told me that her and Sean, this stoner kid, went with his friend Jack to Prospect Park recently and streaked in the rain at 2 a.m. (this was after they drank waaay too much, haha, Tanzen never knows when to stop). We're discussing prospects for the future, mostly centering around my favorite thing... (you get one guess). Although I've never scored in the city, I'm not too worried about it. My thought is: if you know where most people get it, you can probably get it too. The thing I don't like are the dogs in Penn Station. My friends say that they are probably just bomb sniffing dogs (which is obviously not a problem for me, haha) and I've taken weed through the station before with no problems, I just would hate anything bad to happen there. Tanzen also makes me nervous, she's really naive and excitable, which really isn't a good combination. I don't know, I figure that I might as well, see what I can do, it probably can't hurt to try and find it (haha, or it could turn out badly, but I'm gonna be optimistic and say that I would have to do something pretty fucking dumb to get in a lot of trouble... that being said, some people would consider it completely fucking dumb already). My first thought is: Tompkins! Where junkies come to live (on a bench), and die (ironically, on the same bench). Usually I hang out in Washington Square, which is just basically weed central (my friend Ned gets asked constantly if he wants to buy, the poor straightedge boy is always very confused by the names they say to him). Tompkins is on the LES (for everyone not in the know: Lower East Side). Basically if you walk down St. Marks you run smack into it. It's right over the edge where the West and East side divide. I always enjoy a good romp around the city, the only thing that makes it better: opiates, or the Velvet Underground. I swear on my life that if I walk around listening to the Velvet Underground in the city I get a natural high, it's incredible. I just feel as if I could conquer the world (maybe it's auditory opiates... I can only wish). I'm thinking that we should go try and find the stuff after the show, it gets out at 8 and Ned has to go back to Manhattan anyway, so it will work out. Ned will come with us, and Tanzen can occupy him if he gets in the way. Also, Tanzen really wants to get mushrooms, so she needs to talk to Sean about hooking up with the guy who has them. I don't really want any, mostly because I have a feeling they will be kinda pricey (as is every psychedelic, it seems, but maybe people are just ripping me off).

My head is feeling really strange. I took 150 mg of Lyrica that I found lying around the house (you know, how that is, open a drawer, find a few pills, look them up online, isn't that what everyone does? take them and wait for them to take effect ; ). It's really bizarre, I jsut have a giant headache in the front of my head and I feel really tired. It kinda reminds me of Ambien (when I'm not puking it up, which seems to happen everytime I take it, it's made me vomit marshmallows three times, which, strangely, feels about the same as eating them), everything is moving a little bit. Weird... everyone who talks about taking it uses like 600mg, which is way more than I feel like taking. I was having some severe cravings, which I wasn't really dealing with. I think that when your mind says "TAKE DRUGS NOW!" and then you say "maybe later," it just expects you to take some kind of drugs in the next few hours. I waited and waited and waited for it to go away, but it just wouldn't... so I took some drugs. This shit is really similar to Ambien, which makes me a bit wary.

I should be looking up the new pair of Vans I want. I have this pair that I got for Christmas (my mother always buys me a new pair of Vans for Christmas, it is now tradition), which I have worn almost every day. Each has holes in the big toe area, so she says I look homeless, so I have to get some new shoes. There were Circle Jerks Vans that I wanted, but they're not online anymore. How sick would that be? The cute little skanking boy on the top of your feet? Now those would be some sick shoes. They have Germs ones, but I don't like the Germs as much as the Circle Jerks. They also have Johnny Ramone... but I don't know if I really would wear shoes with him on it.  At the moment, I've been wearing my Docs every chance that I get, I love them sooooo much! Haha, for some reason, having boots makes me feel like a super hero. 

I would now like to tell the shop.vans.com to go and fuck itself. It's so hard to use. I just want to look at their "classic slip ons" and it's being all dumb. And I'm having a whole lot of trouble moving around now. Hmmm... Lyrica is really fucking with me, but it's kinda entertaining.

Well, I guess I'll report more later... or in the morning... whenever I wake up. = )

(BTW, if you don't know it, you should look up the song = NYC Tonight by GG Allin, because it is quite good, I've only heard other people cover it, but I love the song = )

Some kinda love, Some kinda hate

My tears are so cold. They feel like ice on my cheeks. They keep pouring down, rolling over my cheeks. I have never cried when I am high before. My cotton ears got worse and the tears are still so cold. They keep running. I don't even feel them come out. My nose runs too as I type this. I'm just so worried about my friends and my family, everyone is so depressed. All you can do is sit by and watch them, one by one, each fucking themselves up in their own special way. Ironically, I'm not depressed. They put me on medication in January, and it made me suicidal, so I took myself off of it. I was completely back to normal afterwards. If anything I get stressed a lot, but that's because I'm always thinking everything over. I wonder if getting high keeps me balanced,  I guess that's dumb, but maybe it's the truth. My high is pretty light, it's been slowly fading in, it hasn't sent me on the nod, but i've been focusing on shit, so that's not surprising.

My hands seem so small and weak. I run one set of fingers over the other, barely feeling it. Everything seems really red and my back aches. My arms look pretty tan, days of walking down hot city streets. I remember stabbing the back of my left hand for a vein, feeling the buzzing pain, heating my hand. The veins all rolling away. My needles had really been meant for muscle injections, their fat tip too large to shimmy into the skinny pathways. I scratch my arm, my inner thigh itches. My head itches a lot always, but right now my right arm is slowly getting worse and worse. I hear what sounds like thunder outside. I hope it rains.

Richard and I discuss Anthony. Anthony takes up my thoughts. Everything I do seems like it would be better if Anthony were there, even cooking and shopping, just driving around. I don't know what love is, but I wonder if this is it. It seems like no guy could ever measure up to Anthony. He cares about me, he's smart, he's funny, he's cute. He's my man. = )

It's 2 a.m. the hours seems so long and yet so short. Dry lips. Tired eyes. Muffled ears. My senses feel dull. I watch the TV, people lying, pretending at junkies, they're lying is pretty dead on.

I'm going to sleep. Sleep on the thoughts that invade today.

I Hate People

Last night I was sitting on my bed and I started to just see the needle going into my skin. Slowly slipping in, the flinching pain, and then the release. Blood filling up, blooding flowing out. I remember once, it's actually a pretty funny story, my needle getting clogged. I was annoyed because I was done and I just wanted to get out of the bathroom and lay down. I'm standing over the sink and nothing is coming out. Pressing and pressing, nothing is coming out. I held it up and pointed it towards the mirror trying to see if the blockage was visible. I continued to press (for a reason I can't understand) and it sprayed out. But, because it was pointed up I got in on the ceiling. Now, I'm standing there staring at the ceiling and a shiver runs down my spine, how am I going to clean this up? I clear off everything that was on the counter, and quickly hop on to it. I'm kneeling on the counter and all I can think is, "SHIT!" I lick my finger and rub it on the speckles of blood and suddenly they're gone. I take the rest of the water that I had and rubbed off all the blood on the ceiling on the lights. By that time my fear had caused me to begin to shake so I had to go lie down and calm down. Anyway, to me, that's a funny story, probably because it was me staring at the ceiling thinking, "WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING TO DO???"

I just want to get high. I just want to melt into the seams in the bedspread. I don't want to think about fighting, or yelling, I just want to melt into oblivion. I tried to talk to Lauren today about why she pissed me off last night, but she didn't care that she had hurt me. It's so obnoxious. Anthony and I are talking on the phone, I'm crying on the other side, and all he says is, "I wish I could be there and give you a hug." He has to work today and tomorrow, but we may hang out after he gets done tomorrow. I hope we can, I haven't seen him in two weeks, which is really too long.

We're going out on Tuesday to the movies, so at least if I can't see him tomorrow I can see him then. I really want to see that new Brad Pitt movie, "Burn After Reading." It looks so good! I think Anthony wants to see "Pineapple Express" again, which I will have to say no to because that would be the third time I had seen it. The second time was almost unbearable, my friend watched it high the second time and still thought it was long.

I'm getting the sides of my head trimmed down, it's looking weird with my 7" mohawk in the middle. I'm sure the hair stylist will get a kick out of it, I've known him since middle school. Haha, when I was in 7th grade I asked for a hairstyle that would allow me to stick up the middle in a mohawk but leave my hair normal on the sides, he said he couldn't do that. Last year, I did it to myself and it was pretty good, but my new mohawk is really awesome. I'm going to wait to reshave it, even though my hair grows back faster than most people. 

Well, I'm off to get my hair done! = )

No Sleep Till Brooklyn

I couldn't sleep the last two nights of the trip. I would fall into a half-dream world, unable to tell whether I was asleep or awake. By tuesday I was exhausted, but I had promised Lauren I would come with her to this show. My friend Tanzen was going to let us stay the night at her house after the show. The show was incredible, slightly cracked out, but good. It was actually a really nice club, nothing like what I usually go to. The shows I go to are in small hole in the wall places, generally dirty, with stages that are either on the floor or only up a step. This place was nice. There were hipsters everywhere which made me feel really out of place. I was wearing my new "Necros" shirt, which I had only made a week ago, my favorite pair of torn up Vans, and a dirty mohawk. The show ended at 1, so we trudged out of the hall in Williamsburg. Everything ached and I really just wanted to sleep. We hopped onto the L, so that we could transfer to the Q. After half an hour I decided we would get on the N and transfer back to the Q later. We got off at Canal and switched after about 15 minutes. Finally, we got across the water and into Brooklyn. At Dekalb the train stopped and I freaked. I just was so worried about not being able to get to Tanzen's house and it was already after 2 by that time. We asked the conductor who said that there was construction being done and we had to go to the part of the station where the Q was actually running. By the time we got to Church Ave it was 3 a.m.. Tanzen was there with her dog Bambi and after hugging, we all walked to Tanzen's house. The next morning we woke up around 11:20, Tanzen made us breakfast and iced coffee. Honestly, she is one of the nicest people I know and I'm glad that I went to the show. The only thing that sucks is that I didn't have time to talk to her about some important shit. Lauren, although she is one of my best friends, has previously blocked me from going into her bathroom because she knew that I was going to get high. The thing is that she's a bit hypocritical, if she liked the drugs I did, she wouldn't give a shit, but because she's doesn't like them she gets on her high horse and is giving me shit. All discussion of "my drugs" is prohibited from conversation around Lauren, and Tanzen is not discreet at all, so that whole deal wouldn't work. While we were on the train going home Lauren freaked out, she thought she was going to crap herself on the train (which after the fact kinda makes me laugh). Last night, Lauren, Nina, and I were all hanging out in Nina's car driving around and smoking. This is a good part of the conversation:

L - "I don't mean to be gross, but like I got really sick. I didn't even know trains had a bathroom, but I'm glad that I found out. I thought I was going to have to go to the hospital or something."

N - "You thought you would have to go to the hospital because you crapped yourself? Hahahaha..."

L - "Yeah, I don't know, I was just really sick."

N - "Doctor, she has crapped herself, we better take her away."

I've been actually feeling pretty bad myself. Allergies and an upset stomach. I'm hopping it passes soon. I feel like I'm about to puke and my head hurts, but I have to go over to the school in a few minutes and find out about classes and parking passes and other shit.

A few good shows are coming up: Reagan Youth, World War IX (my favorite band, I've made them patches and they give me shit), and Blackout Shoppers. I'm so supped for Reagan Youth, I can't wait to get in the pit. I was in a bad mood last night, so to help break in my boots I just started kicking the posts in the basement. Anthony and I started to talk and he calmed me down. He's really logical, so as I'm freaking out he's talking to me and just making me think about it. That Reagan Youth show is going to make me feel so much better.

Nothing else is really going on, I've been working on my comic drawing more and more. I can't wait until the compilation comic comes out. I mean, I'm going to be published, even though it's pretty shitty, at least it's a start.

Well, I'm off and I just keep thinking the same thing: 

"Drugs of youth: Give me a thrill, Give me a headache."

That's the Story of My Life

I'm in a hotel room in Chicago right now. My mother is sitting on the other bed as we stare at NBC and the Olympic stats run across the screen. I'm very tired, I haven't really done much, but I can feel sleep hanging over my head, weighing my thoughts down. The hotel is depressing, there is a facsimile of niceness which has simply failed to stick. This whole idea of an attempt at beauty, an attempt at luxury, is depressing because I wonder who really likes this place. I wonder who stays here and feels like it is grand. I hope these people do not exist. I walked down the hallway last night, slowly, the electric lights casting a green glow over everything they shone upon. I dragged my feet and wondered. In the silence of the hallway I could hear myself move, I could hear the walls talk. I thought of Scott Frank, sleeping in the decrepit Geronimo. Walls pealing, wind hot, and the dope hotter. Sitting on his balcony and staring out over Arizona, I thought of how I could live that life. With no ties to the past or the future, the here and now resting in the bottom of your spoon, and your place to lay your head a hotel. There is something romantic about living in a hotel, the idea of watching other people change while your situation stayed static. I'm going to talk to Tanzen next time I see her, I miss her and I hope to God that we can get a minute to discuss some upcoming plans. She's met some new people, and with that we can move from there. I guess there will be more details about that soon.

Well, my stomach feels like it's about to explode, so I have to stop all of this blah-blah-blahing. I'm sure you have more interesting things to do. = )

I Need Lunch

I did that thing where you search up your name and needs after it, here's what I got:

1. Lucy needs your help... (haha, I'm always in need of a little of that)

2. Lucy needs some love to... (I think they meant "too," haha, could always have more of that)

3. Lucy needs an ordinary man... (haha! Anthony is pretty special, but I don't need anyone else)

4. Lucy needs a haircut... (I would like to reshave my head, the mohawk could always be more defined)

5. Lucy needs tacos... (I kinda wanted a meat and cheese burrito earlier)

6. Lucy needs Facebook... (I could probably use less of that, too much time spent staring into space)

7. Lucy needs a good home... (my home is pretty good, though I wish I could live at my cousin's)

8. Lucy needs a leash for me... (haha, I don't know what that is implying)

9. Lucy needs a new home... (wtf, lots of Lucy's are in need of homes)

10. Lucy needs a miracle... (Sometimes, I wish I could get one)

That was somewhat entertaining and time wasting, haha, apparently what I need is a new home  and a little help. = )

You're Insane

My head is slowly getting heavier. Thoughts of Anthony cross my mind and I smile. His hair always gets like it's been stuck in a box, all boxy, it's cute. We went to the movies today and saw Pineapple Express. We hung out for an hour afterwards just talking, we sat in a park and then we got in my car and drove over to the school parking lot. We waited for his friend to get out of pre-season practice, but his friend left instead of coming to hang out. I really love hanging out with him, it's just nice. "Welcome to Paradise" came on the radio, and we both laughed, we turned it up and sang along. Anthony and I are like peas in a pod, or something like that. Haha, he just makes me so happy.

The Blackout Shoppers last night was I-N-C-R-E-D-I-B-L-E. The lead singer poked me in the head. His nail digging into my scalp, I just smiled at him. Some bands don't acknowledge people who stand in the front row and sing all the words, but the Blackout Shoppers are not one of those bands. As I would be singing, the singer would get up close to me, he'd point at me and make gestures, and he would let me sing with him in the mic. It got me so pumped up, I was just in love with it. The were giving away pins, stickers, and CDs. I took 2 pins, 3 stickers, a CD (Live From Fucking New Jersey), and I bought a shirt for $5 (it was supposed to be $10, but I didn't have any more money). I watched the merch table for a few minutes because a girl had taken a 7" without paying (she thought it was free). I couldn't wipe the smile off my face, he would look at me and make weird expressions (that's just what he does) and I would give him weird looks back or I would just smile back. The show was so good, it was $10 and well worth it. I'm in love with the Blackout Shoppers. If you want a good NYC punk band which includes: great live performances, all ages shows, good instrumentals, and kickass lyrics, then this is the band for you!

I'm leaving tomorrow for a college visit, which I am not excited about at all. My mother and I are going to be driving for 13 HOURS, it's going to be nuts. My mother gets stressed out really easily, and once that happens, well, let's just say it's unpleasant. Hopefully she stays calm and the trip will go down without a hitch, but that's doubtful. She flipped out a few weeks ago about me spilling ketchup on my hands, she screamed at me to "stop sitting there, looking helpless." I was in a bit of shock, mostly because I just wasn't sure what to do because my hands were literally covered. That whole outburst did not help that situation, like all of her outbursts.

I'm not really excited about anything, the only thing I hope is that I can finish both of my summer reading books before we get home. Beyond that, I would just like to chill out for the next two weeks before school starts and not stress too much.

Ludlow St. and Beat My Guest

The men on the screen are running in slow motion. Slowly their faces contort in ecstasy or defeat, human emotions have slowed to a crawl. It's 11:54 p.m. on sunday night, August 17th. I looked at one of my old journals last month and I found the entry documenting my first experience with opiates. Haha, which basically boiled down to me puking and my father standing in the doorway asking if I was alright. Slowly I watched as my posts degenerated into me speaking about not giving a shit anymore, it's weird; the human emotions again are slowed to a crawl. I'm thinking that I'll send my self off to an opiate fuzz tomorrow possibly. The city is always better high. Those classic scenes become more classic, more epic. You feel yourself and the city become one. The village is like my home away from home, I watch the faces change skipping from person to person. The tourists are ugly and fat, walking slowly, staring at maps, but the true New Yorkers hold a beauty for me. It's like seeing long lost family, the resemblance is suddenly apparent, one which you had never been aware of before. I'm excited for the show, some good old loud and fast punk. My friend Lauren shall be a bit disturbed, I like taking her to punk shows, mostly because she listens to so much folky-indie-noise stuff. Some of it I don't really mind, but some of it I hate. We're going to see Dr. Dog next Tuesday after I get home from college visits, so that should be interesting. I like Dr. Dog, but it will mean probably a lot of hipsters, which is never a good thing. I hate hipsters. They pollute all that the city stands for, they are true trash. I want to grab them by the face and run their teeth along the curb. Hipsters come to shows to be cool, to pretend. Sure, maybe all of us are pretending to some extent in life, but their lives are facades erected and buffed into little "pseudo-intellectual" pieces of shit. I'm psyched for the show though, I have almost no money. My parents gave me $25, which will cover my train ticket and metrocard, and half the ticket. It's $10, which isn't bad but isn't great. I really can't wait for that Reagan Youth show in september, that will be fucking fun. That's only $8 and starts at 4 and is on a saturday, which means that it is perfect.

I'm reading Ecstasy by Irvine Welsh, which is pretty good. I really like Irvine Welsh, definitely one of my favorite authors. I'm on the third short story on the collection. Obviously, they all have someone taking ecstasy in them, something which I never have any desire to do. Ecstasy has never had any appeal for me, even when offered it by friends I've always figured it was a waste of money. I prefer when he writes about heroin, but what can I say, Trainspotting is one of my favorite books ever. However, if you want to read a good book about heroin, Tales from the Geronimo by Scott Frank is my personal favorite of all time. It's hard to come by, I bought it in a used book store a few years ago, but if you can find it definitely read it. It's to the point where whenever I'm high and in need of some reading I open it up. You could probably recite a passage and I could tell you exactly where he was and what he was doing it. It's an auto-biography which is a nice quality. I wrote a book report it for one of my English classes, haha, my cover art was a needle full of blood spraying it out into a nice pool. It's ironic when people would ask me why I wrote about this kind of shit, and I would just let it kind of roll around in my mind and give some dumb answer. I think it's funny, people questioning me about it and getting to lie.

Anyway, I'm feeling pretty good about life. I seriously shouldn't complain, things are going okay, as long as I focus and don't fuck up anything too badly I should be okay for a few more months. I have to keep a low profile around my parents, I'm getting careless, which will only end up badly.

So, I'm posting two videos, the first one is of a Blackout Shoppers performance. The first song they perform is my favorite of theirs, I love it. The next video is the song "Beat My Guest" by Adam and the Ants, which is just so catchy. I was wandering around the house signing There's so much happiness behind these tears, yeah BEAT ME, BEAT ME OHD OHD OH-ohoh.... Watch both and be entertained for a few more minutes.

Welcome to Paradise

I'm sitting on my cousin's house, nervously looking over my shoulder, checking that I can blog in the saftey of the 4 'o clock hour, this lovely Sunday morning. I haven't slept a wink, Ruby (his roommate's gf) and I were talking and looking at youtube videos for hours. I love staying at my cousin's house, there's never a dull moment. I think they're digging up the bomb shelter (I'm not kidding) in their backyard soon, which I definitely want to see. They're always getting into crazy adventures, which usually entertain me for multiple hours.

Last night my friends and I got stoned out of our minds. Sitting in the frontseat of Nina's car as we slowly passed her grandfather's pipe between the three of us. "You're such a pothead" I'm not a pothead, you both are! I only smoke with you two "No, if we're both potheads, then you are too." That was the big debate of the night, I still say that I'm not, my friends are the people who take one hit and then it's all "I'm blazed, man." It's kind of offensive honestly, of all the names someone could call me, pothead is definitely not one of them. That's so pejorative and just plain gross. I'm finding pot more and more pathetic every time I smoke it. Right before hand I think whatever, this is no big deal. Afterwards all I can think is you look like such a dumbass. Ironically, no other drugs effect me in this manner, so clearly it's just the weeds fault. I'll pop some hydros, I feel no guilt. Smoke half a bowl, I just feel dumb. We went over to Nina's house (on the way she kept calling me Helen Keller, "Helllllllllllenn Kellllllllleer, why are you in my car? Oh, Helen?") and then we met some other people there and played Scategories for a few hours. It was interesting, it's never dull when my friends are around. That's the thing, we end up going on these weird adventures, where half of my mind is going "we're going to die!!!" and the other half is going "Yeah man! Let's go!!!" I figure logic says, "your stoned friend should not be allowed to drive the car and call you Helen Keller." But, awesome says, "It probably can't kill you and it's going to be awesome, so why not?" I love my friends, wherever we are there is always something interesting happening. The only time we are bored is while watching TV.

Lauren and I are going to see the Blackout Shoppers tomorrow, they're playing a show on the Lower East side. I'm psyched, they are so good. They are definitely one of my favorite unheard of NYC punk bands. I'm really getting into the scene in NYC, it's funny because slowly you begin  to see the all the same bands at each show. People become familiar sights and it's just all around more fun. I love going to shows and because of that NYC is paradise.

Big City

11:17 a.m., the 10:25 train to N.Y.C..

The train is always a sad place. You watch people with no purpose try and change their place in the universe; the universe is a treadmill. I wish they would never turn the lights on, darkness is better on the train. When I first started riding it I truly enjoyed it, but now it just makes me sick. The only things I like are those few fleeting moments when you see New York in the distance.

I've been trying to read the Village Voice, but I'm not very entertained by it right now. I woke up in a shit mood, mostly because I woke up to Lauren flaking on plans again. Again is the most important part of that statement. It's partially my fault, I let her treat me like shit.

I still haven't seen Anthony and it's driving me a bit crazy. I really do miss him. We talk on the phone almost everyday. He broke is toe a few days ago,  so I know he has to stop his skating lessons (he's a hockey player) which is probably bumming him out. I want to bake him cupcakes or something, you know, I just want to be all girly and take care of him. He'd probably be annoyed that I thought he needed to be taken care of.

I'm going over to my cousin Chris' house tomorrow. He lives with this guy Scott and Scott's girlfriend Ruby. I refer to Chris and Scott as my two dads. They've been friends since college. Almost once a month they basically adopt me for a weekend. They truly are my favorite people.

Yesterday, my dad showed me his switch blade, which was pretty cool. I could here something clicking in his room, pop-pop, pop-pop, pop-pop, and so I got up to here what it was. My dad can be really fatherly, but generally about all the wrong things. In the 7th grade he explained to me what a head shop was. And so we had a discussion about different types of knives. I was saying how a friend of mine is buying knuckle dusters and my father said he had a pair somewhere. In some ways I know my dad is generally a really cool person, yet he still pisses me off to no end. We're way too similar, but sometimes I really do enjoy my dad's company. I occasionally forget that he is actually a cool person, which was a nice reminder.

Well, I'm off to the city to drop off a book for my professor and then some shopping. I'm itching like no tomorrow, but I'm trying to deal. Haha, I'm doing alright.

Drugs of Youth

"Would you do speed?" We're sitting on Lauren's deck. The sun is shinning it's last rays through the trees surrounding us and it truly feels like we're in the jungle. I'm somewhat surprised that Nina is asking her this. Nina's in Wyoming right now, but she'll be back thursday. She's texting Lauren half way across the country, telling her that she is trying to get speed. Of all the people that I know, Lauren is the last person I would offer any drug  "harder" than acid (not that that's a bad thing). I love Lauren, she's my best friend, but my ways are greatly looked down upon so I'm surprised by her reaction. "I guess, I'll try it at least once." I'm a bit stunned and kind of annoyed. Lauren has a giant fear of needles (one that I've never been able to understand -- you're always going to have to deal with needles: shots, blood drawing, etc. -- it's pointless to be afraid), so that's her first concern. I'm sitting with her explaining speed, I've never done it but I at least know a thing or two about it (haha, I've accrued a lot of useless knowledge in my short life). She's like, "How can you do it?" "Well you can snort it, shoot it, it comes in capsules sometimes, and you can smoke it." "Oh, you can smoke it?" I kind of laughed at her, "You can smoke heroin, too. Just 'cause you can smoke it doesn't mean that you should do it." The thing is that I'm always left out of this kind of dumb shit. Okay, so I wouldn't go out of my way to get speed, but I would at least like to be invited to doing something so dumb. The other thing is that, as far as I know, Nina has no experience with "harder" drugs. I'm kind of worried that she is going to do something that will kill/hurt either her or Lauren. Worse comes to worse, I would at least watch them and make sure they don't do something completely stupid (not that taking speed isn't in itself). I guess I'm kind of curious, I can't deny that. Generally, if I'm presented with an option to get high I take it, just because, "I might as well try it once." I'd like to try speed and if Nina's going to get it, I might as well see if I can get in on that. Partially it's curiosity, partially it's "you guys have no idea what you're getting into." Maybe I'm worrying too much, but maybe Nina isn't thinking straight. Lauren gets suicidal if she's smoked too much sometimes, I feel like speed wouldn't help that. At least Nina has a bit more experience with drugs, so she's more prepared. I feel like I could handle it, but I don't really know. I can't tell if I'm being a good friend, or just someone who wants to get high. My other thought is that Nina is exaggerating. She's been known to say, "yeah, I'm going to get that" and have it never appear. She's promised acid on a few different occasions and ended up getting nothing. Okay, so I'm focusing on a possibility that probably won't happen.

I guess the moral of that story is that I would A) like to be invited to try speed, B) after being invited I would actually like to use the speed, and C) like my friend not to keep doing such dumbshit that make me nervous and dumbshit that I will do.

BTW, I bet earlier that I would get high tonight and I'M NOT! Yay, I owe you 2 million dollars. Haha, I got out of the house and saw Lauren, so I was bit distracted which is always good.

P.S. Can you name who wrote the song "Drugs of Youth"? Just because I want to see if other people know the allusions I'm using in the titles of my posts.

Nervous Breakdown

I can't focus at all right now. Every time I try to focus on Kant's categorical imperative or why it has to be a universal law or why the hypothetical law can't be moral, I just think about all this other stuff. I'm watching Made. This whiny little 15 year old girl is trying to become a skateboarder, and she won't stop her mother from controlling her. It's really scary to think that people can be controlled like this and how her mother can't see it. Luckily, the girl finally told her mother. I don't know why I'm  watching this dribble, but it's not helping me focus.

Anthony broke his toe today, so we couldn't go out like we planned. I haven't seen him in like 3 weeks and it's driving me nuts. Of course he would break his toe today, haha, that's so not surprising.

With all of these thoughts crowding my brain I want to take some bleach and just wash it clean. This is not helping me at all. If I could I would just stop thinking entirely because with thoughts comes ideas. And with ideas comes actions. So, if I keep thinking I'm going to do something and be pissed at my self later.

I think I'm going to make myself some soup. By putting food into my body it will A) take up my time, B) take up my action, and C) make me feel better. I'm replacing drugs with food, which really isn't going to happen. I'll bet you a million bucks that by 8 I'm high. Make it 2 million. I shouldn't be thinking this way, but that's how I feel.

Even all of this shit is going on, I'm not in such a bad mood. I'll eat some soup, I'll watch some tv, and I'll write  some more philosophy... oh joy!

Oh yeah...

11:23....Today is one of those days where I need to be really productive. It's dark because it's going to storm all day, the perfect kind of day to spend high. I don't know, I should be working on this shit. It's kind of unfair. My friends are all off reading Ginsberg and Kerouac, or working, or off on vacation, and here I am doing this bullshit. At least they are getting something out of what they are doing. I hate being an overachiever, it's such bullshit. Why bother?

Today is just a bad day, I can already feel it. I don't know, I'm really not in that bad a mood, I'm just focusing on all the bad shit...

Also, where is everyone? Donde estan?

12:00....You know what is good? Junkyard Wars. Junkyard Wars is such an entertaining show. There were two versions at one point: an American one and an English one. The one that I get is the English one. I have to say that Junkyard Wars is definitely going to put me in better spirits.

12:15.....It was haling outside so I at first I watched in a bit of shock (it almost never hales here). I stared at my poor Siouxsie (my car), so I ran outside (in the process I became drenched) and quickly moved her into the garage. Poor Siouxsie, I hope there aren't any dents left in her. The hale was pretty small so I hope that I'm lucky.

12:47....BTW, Trophic is a word, no matter how much my computer would like to say it's not. The sun has basically come out. I wish it would be gray and dark all day. (Haha, I sound so emo... = )

Baby's on Fire

We walked down the steps to grab Lauren's dad a bottle of water. Her mother followed us partially down the steps. "WHY ARE YOUR EYES SO RED? HAVE YOU BEEN SMOKING POT?" I tried to stop myself from giggling. Lauren starts to laugh, "No, I had my contacts in, but they were bothering me." "I didn't see you wearing them today!" Ahh, to be a teenager. 

It was another night spent at Lauren's house. "We can't eat, they always know when me and a friend go into the kitchen and just start to eat. It's too obvious." I've never really enjoyed pot (I started out with opiates, so pot was always like, "well, I have nothing better to do, so okay if you're buying it."), but Lauren is a pothead and so I find myself smoking with her every time we hang out. I don't really like thinking about how often she smokes, it's kind of depressing in a sense. I know that it's not a physical addiction (no shit, it's weed), but a mental addiction is just as bad. I've noticed that you can fuck yourself up and not really care, but watch your best friend become fucked up and it's just upsetting. She's a great musician, artist, and she's smart, but she's throwing it all away. I guess I'm being hypocritical, but I can't help it.

We watched part of Blades of Glory, which really says something about our mental state. It was free on one of those On Demand movie channels, so that's the only good part. Also, Will Arnett was in it, and he is one of the funniest people, I love him. I had a dream that I was married to him, haha. We agreed that the movie was "gay" and I mean, homosexual. It was a movie that had so much man on man sexual tension, and it was just too much. If the movie is going to be gay be gay, stop trying to make the people in it straight.

I'm actually in a good mood right now. I don't really know why, but I'm feeling joyous. High on life? Haha, I hope so. My friends and I are meeting up today to work on summer homework, so that will be...uhh... fun? I should be working on that paper for NYU, but I just can't focus on it. Hopefully it will be a lovely Sunday. = )

How is everyone else?

I have met God.

Iggy Pop is God. It is completely apparent to me that if there was some kind of Messiah it would be Iggy Pop. But, I'm sure this is also apparent to everyone else, so I will start the tale at the beginning of the night.

My friend Alexis and I met at the train station. We basically terrorized the people around us by having a very loud discussion about Iggy Pop and is very large penis, drugs, and anything else that would offend the people in front of us. We finally got to the city and we were almost attacked by the subway doors (of course). We wandered over to the venue (Terminal 5) and luckily Alexis was there to say, "Lucy, the show is not on 57th, it's on 56th." That made it a bit easier to find.

After waiting for 20 minutes we finally got inside. The audience was made up of: old men who have done too many drugs (think of Jimmy from Trash and Vaudeville), people in their 20s who were pretty normal, people who were currently too drunk or too stoned to stand up under their own control, more creepy old dudes who were really dirty, and us. Also, there were a whole lots of people who tried to push past us and move to the very front (we were standing in about the 3rd row).

We stood on the floor of the club for an hour and a half waiting for Iggy to appear. From 8 to 9:30 we waited, and waited, and waited and waited and waited and waited. People would cheer at random intervals for no apparent reason and we saw 3 people get kicked out before the music even started. I did a Richard Hell impression ("oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh") and the people ahead of us heard and wanted me to do it again (haha, I was kinda flattered).

Finally the lights dimmed and the stage lights came on. Iggy walked on stage. I just couldn't believe it. He was standing there, this man who I had idolized since I was 15 was standing in front of me. I didn't know how to react. I was stunned, there was no way that it was possible.

For the next hour and a half as I watched Iggy and the Stooges play I kept freaking out. I would start to sing and bang my head and jump up and down, suddenly I would look up and Iggy Pop was standing above me. It was the most incredible show of my life. By the end of the night I was drenched in other people's sweat and water that Iggy had thrown on the crowd, but it was glorious. I'm trying to convey something that I really can't say because to experience it you had to be there. The only thing I can say is Iggy is God.

SUCCESS!

Here comes success, over my hill, here comes success, well here comes my car, here comes Chinese rug, HERE COMES SUCCESS!

I've got a good feeling and it's leaking out all over the page. I think it was mostly getting done with the final exam yesterday. It wasn't to hard, but I think I royal fucked up the long answer which was describing Locke's philosophy on personal identity and comparing it to Leibniz and Descartes. My teacher left for a few seconds and Rob, this guy in my class, was talking with Ian. They were chuckling about the test. I looked at him and for some reason I was staring right at his arm... guess what I saw? Well, one thing he said to me made more sense. We were talking on the train (we both commute on the same line), it was the first time I had really talked to the guy. He was talking about how he was going to become president, and then how he was going to legalize and tax weed, and then for no reason he just says, "Opiates are good." My first reaction was just what the fuck? Who says that to someone they barely know? I didn't know what to say to that, I was like, "Yeah..." Now, you could make assumptions I guess about me, maybe, but it's a long stretch. So, I'm just going to assume that he just tells everyone... which leads me to wonder, are there people who do this? Like are people just like, "Hey, my name is Mark, and I really enjoy slamming smack, it's my favorite thing to do. What's up with you? I like your hair." Haha, I don't know, he's kinda a weird guy. The other night we all met up for a review session before the final. I had about an hour before the train that I was going to take and I didn't know what to do. I was walking out with him and this other girl Melissa who had to go meet her dad. I didn't know whether to go with one of them or what, and after they realized I had no where to go, Rob told me to go with Melissa because he had to meet a "friend." He walked over towards St. Marks... So maybe that last part is a stretch, okay, I'll admit that. I wish I could see the guy again, haha, I really need a life.

Wanna know what else is making today a success? IGGY POP AND THE STOOGES!!! I really can't believe that I'm going to be seeing them in concert. Most bands I like are either broken up, on hiatus, or really really old. The only big punk band I've seen is the Lower Class Brats (which was really awesome and in July, the Casualties were playing too but I hate them so I didn't stick around). Most of the punk bands I see are in tiny clubs, with 30 year olds who are all drunk off of their asses (which is generally entertaining). My favorite is this guy Justin who is also the guitarist for World War IX. I made patches for them and they always treat me like I'm way cooler than I am (haha, I'm the teenage shit head who is enamored of them... I just can't help it). Fuck, it's Iggy and the Stooges, I just can't believe it. Jim (a.k.a. Iggy) is one of the only musicians who I really look up to (not that I want to be just like him, but I don't know, he's like a musical hero who I worship or something). It's just unreal, I hope that Terminal 5 is tiny so that it's not too many people. Tickets were $45!! Which is way too high for any other band (my mom bought it for me, so actually it was free for me...). I'm definitely bringing my camera, so I'll post some pictures of Iggy in all his glory... I kinda worship him, which is kinda weird I guess.

I learned about Iggy, New Years Eve when I was 15. I was at my best friend's house and we were doing nothing as always. I remember we had gone up to the playground at the elementary school up the street from her house and had been swinging. We walked back into her house and up the stairs, which lead into her living room. Her parents were watching some music video channel and the video for "Lust for Life" came on. It was like a fire was lighted in my brain. The small leanings that I had been developing towards punk, were suddenly ignited and I knew that I had to find out about A) Iggy Pop and B) Trainspotting. In that moment I learned about my favorite musician and my favorite movie. It's weird to think about now but I have a clear memory of that like no other. (The hit I just took is kicking in... oh yes... = ) He really is very intelligent, something that most people don't realize. I guess I love Iggy because he's brilliant, he's a great singer, and just in my mind he is the epitome of greatness. This interview I'm going to post is so good, mostly because he discusses Dionysus and Apollo, which I know about from reading Nietszche. I do truly love Iggy, he is just incredible and he was soooo attractive (in this video he's just so cute). Anyway, today is going to be good.

The girl who is coming with me is named Alexis. Out Latin teacher calls her my "little sister." She is so much like me it's kind of scary (but not in a bad way). She also loves Iggy and just 77 punk in general, we both love philosophy, and Latin. I'm just going to try and keep her on the straight and narrow, keep her looking in the right direction. I believe that she can do anything she wants to do, she is brilliant (probably smarter than I am). I'm really glad she's coming with me. It's funny she came to a show of my band in the spring and I let her wear my jacket (my jacket is like my armor, it's one of my most prized possessions), she was so excited and it was kind of adorable. I think she looks up to me, which is cool, I want to be a good role model for her. I'm going to try hard and keep her away from all the bad stuff they're going to push on her. The one good thing is that I know and am friends with most of her friends and they almost all of them are straightedge. Alexis has never been to a show before. I can't even imagine that and her first show will be Iggy Pop and the Stooges. What more could you ask for?

I think I'm going to buy a poster at the show. I need one for my wall, so I hope they have a good one of that isn't too expensive. Worse comes to worse I'll just buy one at Bleeker Street Records next friday when I go back to NYC. I have a really cool Black Flag poster from the 80s that my friend bought me for Xmas. It was from England, I mean, that just shows someone's an awesome friend. I was thinking about how the stuff my friends have bought me this year for my b-day and last xmas were really good (is that weird?). I got Dazed and Confused for my b-day (which I really wanted), and for xmas one gave me a Subhumans CD and the other gave me that poster. My friends are really great when they wanna be, I do love them. They're crazy as fuck, but I love them.

Okay, so enough of this random babble, how is everyone else doing? Hope you are all having a great day! = )

School

My philosophy class is almost over (and I really should be studying). I don't want it to be over, it just sucks. I'll have to go back to regular school in the fall which is just horrible. Anyway, due to this I was thinking of this song, so (since I should get back to studying) I'll post and then say more tomorrow... = )

Honey coat it.

I walked through Penn Station this morning. What if I puked right now? How long do you think it would take for the cops to jump me? I've been feeling sick all day. It was really bad this morning, not THE sickness, but it still wasn't pleasant. Sometimes I get bad headaches and nausea combined, I guess it could be a migraine or something, but I don't really know. After I got out of class I had to sit down on a bench. The heat was hitting me. Sweat was pouring from back. My shirt stuck to my back. I stared at the ground and waited for Ned. I felt like I just wanted to curl up and try to sleep. Sometimes it's bad. I played "Waiting for my Man" by the Velvet Underground as I watched for Ned. He still didn't come. There is something that is completely sketchy about me standing around on a street corner. Look at the watch. Look down that street. Look down this street. Look at the watch. Look at the ground. Repeat. Everyone who walks down the street looks at me. I feel their eyes size me up. I used to get bad headaches when I first started using, if I'd use for 3 days and then stop. The next day my brain would just feel like someone was squeezing it, trying to pop it. I hate feeling sick. I figure if there is a Hell, it means that you feel sick for eternity. Now, that would stop me from sinning... too bad I don't believe in Hell.

Ned is an adorable straight edge boy. He believes that you can read about something and understand it. It's cute and naive. Honey, you can't understand drugs through a priori reasoning. He says that he's studied opiates. I tell him to shut up, I don't want to talk about it. He doesn't know about me. I tell him I don't want to talk about drugs, let's talk about something else. Ned is like a puppy. I worry that when he meets the real world it's going to chew him up and spit him out.

In other news: 

Everything is okay I guess. I'm a bit overwhelmed, but I'll deal with it. I just have to take it a step at a time. Sometimes that's harder than it sounds, but it's all that I can do.

Back to reality

We were sitting in the living room. I was sitting on the sofa, completely calm, as they sat facing me. Nothing about this scared me, in fact, it was totally fine. My parents sat there and lovingly told me that I had to go to rehab. I was totally fine with it, in fact, I was relieved.

I woke up this morning in a cold sweat. I was a bit scared. I remember thinking, "what am I going to do?" Until reality kicked in and I realized that I was not actually going to rehab, that it had only been a weird kind of dream (or nightmare, I can't tell yet). I think it's because I've been thinking about the "rehab group." I have a feeling that this dream isn't going to go away any time soon.

I spent most of this weekend hiding in my room. I enjoyed a psychedelic vacation saturday night, which resulted in 36 hours of dilated pupils. Everyone I saw kept giving me weird looks (I can't tell if that was in my mind, or reality). It's kinda fun to do that once in a while, just to take a break from reality.

Actually, I should start off talking about Saturday morning, before any of that happened. I took the last hit that I had and was planning a nice calm day to relax and nod out on. As I was sitting on my bed, and doing some sudoku my mother walked in. We were talking and then I glanced at my phone. There were more texts from my boyfriend's family. After a few texts, they asked me to help and I did. However, this heightened situation was a bit too much for me. I just couldn't deal with it, I did, but I really was not in the right mental state to be doing this (my hands were shaking as I was typing, it wasn't fun). After they found him and I talked to his sister, they thanked me and I told them that there were no hard feelings. I really do hope that his family starts to like me, it would make dating a whole lot easier.

Later on my mother and I went to blockbuster, I rented American History X and Rocky Horror Picture Show. I've only seen American History X on tv, so it was interesting to watch it with no edits. I really like the movie, mostly I just love Edward Norton. The only thing I don't like are all the dumb bigots who think it's a pro-Nazi movie. The whole point is that if there is fighting that both sides will lose. I went over to my friend's house later and we watched the Rocky Horror Picture Show, which was so much fun. We danced the Time Warp multiple times. We're both really psyched about seeing it at the movie theatre.

It was definitely an interesting weekend, if nothing else. Today Ned and I got lunch and went to class. I feel really bad for him because his uncle/godfather is in the hospital because he has been deemed "a danger to himself." Ned is really close with him, so he is obviously not in such a great mood. I'm just trying to be nice to him, he likes to act very masculine (a.k.a. unemotional), but I know that he absorbs everything.

This week will pass, I'm just going to try to take it one step at a time. = )

How is everyone? Did you have a lovely weekend?

It's a great day!

I'm listening to the Stiff Little Fingers and I have just again realized how classic they are. "Wasted Life" is probably one of my favorite songs. Haha, it's the kinda song that I used to listen to walking into school when I was pissed off. One of those mornings when I wished someone would just pick a fight with me so that I could just hit something, anything. But today is a very happy day.

Last night I went out to dinner with two friends and a girl I'm aquatinted with. We went to this Japanese restaurant that I've been going to since I was a little kid. In fact, when my family would come in they knew us, and I think they may have recognized me last night (I have a mohawk now, but before I had shoulder length hair.) (BTW, I feel so good right now... hmm... I wonder why... ;-) The only problem with the restaurant is that it is soooo expensive. For me just getting miso soup and chicken sukiyaki with a ginger ale was at least $18. Our entire tab came out to $93, but I had a coupon so it ended up being $83. I just put in my $20 cause that's all I had, but my friend Helen was really nice and put in a $20 and the extra money and paid the tip (she only gave them like $5 cause they ignored us mostly, but I can't blame them really). Then my friends decided to go to the movies and see Dark Knight for the 3rd time (I had only seen it once before, so my 2nd time). It was waaaaay too long this time. I could barley contain myself, I was like shaking, I had to get out of there. Mid-way through my boyfriend's sister texts me asking if he is with me. I tell her that he's not. She then proceeds to curse me out and tell me that I'm ruining her brother's life and all this other bullshit. I figure that the best thing to do is to be polite and not say anything back to that. His family hates me, mostly because he doesn't tell them where he's going when he hangs out with me (that's really not my fault). To me it just seems so juvenile, this girl cursing me out who doesn't know me through text messages. I think the reason she doesn't want him to hang with me is because his family is being really nasty to him due to him hanging with me. I think it's just causing internal family drama. I don't really know what to do, so I guess I'll just see what happens. Anyway, I got home, watched Craig Ferguson, who I love. The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson is one of my favorite TV shows, I just think he's so funny. I love his monologues. Also, my pension for getting high at night means that I'm up from 12:37 to 1:37 (yes, it starts at exactly 12:37, weird isn't it?). It was a good night over all, but all of that drama was just too much for me to deal with.

The funny thing about his sister is that she runs in a crowd which I would describe as the "rehab group." The rehab group are people who have all been in rehab (usually out-patient) starting in high school because their parents or the school has caught them doing drugs. They enjoy discussing their drug use because they think it makes them cool. On a whole, I hate basically everyone in that group. They annoy the shit out of me, they are usually over-dramatic and believe that they are such badasses for being in rehab. I have a friend of mine who is in this group, besides annoying me to no end with her discussion of her own drug use (she was talking about using codeine and not eating for 3 days, and I started to laugh at her... everyone looked at me, because they were taking this very seriously, I mean, come on). She also attempts to convince us into giving her our urine (which no one ever does whose friends with me, we all think she should get into in-patient mostly because she is just rotting away her brain cells on multiple levels, though I think she stopped using opiates, also no one wants to pee into a cup on their lunch break). 

The girl who came to dinner with me is friends with a lot of these people, her name is Victoria. My best friend Lauren called her a "wannabe druggy." I believe that has to be the saddest thing I have ever heard. If your goal is to be someone who relies on drugs to feel good (or better, or whatever you want to say) that's pretty sad (and a pretty do-able goal). She's nice, has no brain, but she's nice. She also thinks I'm funny (haha, the only one I think). That wannabe side didn't come out at dinner, she just seemed like a normal, nice girl.

On August 29th I think I'm going to see the midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show at the movie theatre. My friend Richard and I are pretty psyched. I've never seen it before, but my friend told me that I better watch the movie before I go, so I think I'm going to watch it today. Today is going to be a good day, I can already feel it!