yeah, twas my berfday

Happy, happy! Just bought myself hot prezzies. First, Nina Simone double disc with the Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood from the Dior commercial (with that piece of shit Charlize Theron and her nipple). But the Nicole Kidman/Chanel ad kicks its ass, obvs, just not musically. Also, got David Bowie's The Man Who Sold the World and Live at the Beeb which I had never seen before, and has a bunch of Space Oddity-era songs.

Also, Donnie Darko and The Brotherhood of the Wolf, which I will probably watch tonite (by which I mean both of them, in a delicious cinematic gang bang, oh yes).

Happy, but slightly dazed - tomorrow is Xmas Eve and yesterday was my fucking birthday.

How time flies!

I can't believe I'm 23 now. Actually, I can, because of this weird continental suspension of reality. So nothing feels different, really. Except everything that surrounds me (London, my love).

Yesterday afternoon, I took mushrooms (my brain hurts) and did silly things like watch TV and listen to music. After four hours of feeling crazy I ate a bag of dorritos and came back to the land of the sane. Me and the NY roomies went to a Vietnamese place for dindin and drank lots of sake. Then went to Heaven, but I was still high as fuck and worn down from tripping. Saw the cutest boy in the world, did not talk to him and totally dropped a chance to make out with some dude. Oh well, my sexlife shall remain in thie Eor-inspired limbo.

What happened to me being such a skank in London? PS, did I mention that I saw my street musician from last year?! Oh, that was fucking NUL, to digress in franglas for a moment. He's so lame, clearly nothing has changed but his hair (for the worse) and his freakish weird jaundice tan (yech, worse than before). I can't believe I was so horny over him. Also, he clearly had no idea who I was. Not hot.

Part of me wishes to see London Dude #2 from last year, whom I would grab by the lapels (among other things). It was so hot, the way he was Canadian and able to completely blow me off. Why do I feel so compelled to chase these boys, is it the challenge of crowbaring your way into the imossible?

Argh. But it is something I have to change for myself. For now, it will be Nina Simone and amsterdam weed and weird British TV. Joy.