*sour grapes and vodka. 2001-04-29 12:49 p.m.*

last night was a sequel to the boring depressed drunkenness of friday night. considering my mood, i knew i'd be disappointed with whatever my choice for the evening was, so the moral of the story is: i should have picked the one i didn't have to pay $8 for.

i mean, there was alcohol, and i did partake of the alcohol (including the most nasty ass, never mix cranberry juice with rum even if you're out of vodka, beverage in the world), but not $8 worth and in the end it just made the evening more unsatisfying.

i mean, i'm glad to have supported muffy! and all, but parties like that should not happen in the happy house. that house is meant for singing and dancing and just joy, and last night i felt like i was watching the soul of the house being sucked out. i told crushgirl about it today and she assured me that the soul will be back in the house today, but it just made me sad. of course i was drunk so my perceptions were off, but i talked to a number of people who complained about the sacreligiousness of the party being in that house.

i sound all whiny and stuff, and a big part of the whole thing is that i'm still tired and i just ended up eating brunch with tsk because i'm an idiot, and i discovered that he's been reading the secret journal. i actually got up and left and sat somewhere else. but yeah, i'm feeling sort of raw. i mean, i know that it's a risk when you put your life online like that, and i know that there are people who i've given access to the secret journal for one reason or another. but it was such this matter of trust that people wouldn't read it, though there's nothing even particularly personal in it, and the fact that that trust was violated, by sleazy creepy annoying tsk, makes me feel really really dirty. it makes me want to take the whole thing down, which is extreme i know, but i feel yucky about it. i think there's some weird correlation between how i feel about the journal and how i feel about the house. i'm being overdramatic but i just woke up so i have the right: we have been invaded.

i feel weird bitching about the muffy! party here, considering this journal's reason for being or whatever. i'm not saying that it was a bad party, just not my kind of party. i got drunk and all i wanted to do was dance and feel the headiness of drunken joy, but instead i had to stand and try to peer over tall people's shoulder's to watch people take all too long to take off their clothes. i mean, i know that that's supposed to cause suspense, but when i'm drunk my attention span goes to hell.

and now that i've bitched for awhile and sounded like i'm full of sour grapes, i'm going to go fall asleep while trying to read essays on feminism and pragmatism.

*listening to: *
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