August 26, 2003

The Blahs

I've been suffering through the blahs. I'm super restless. Luckily, I've got an interview Wednesday but some time this week, I need to go up to Middletown for the day to retrieve my sleeping bag and various files off the office computer -- and maybe send people their pictures back, if I feel like it. I went to the usual place and found myself sitting outside on the front step more than socializing. I just totally wasn't in the mood. This guy called himself being all slick and sliding up to me, whispering in my ear: "You wanna dance?" I shot him a nasty look and said: "if I wanted to dance, don't you think I'd be on the dance floor instead of holding up the wall?" I mentally added "bizzounce!" and indeed he did. I wasn't feeling the crowd at all tonight. Everyone was so fucking hip that it was painful. I know I'm going against the grain and knocking what's hip, but I'm not feeling this 80s revival shit at all. Sure, I rock the Adidas and the Kangol, but that's got flavor. Who would willingly try to look like Cyndi Lauper or Dale from Missing Persons all these years later when we know they were just playing and/or high as fuck? There's nothing cool or "ironic" about looking like a technicolor clown. Then again, I'm just a hater. I've been hating everything -- and almost everybody -- for a week and change now. As my away message tends to say: "Haterade. Tastes great and less filling." A byproduct of the blahs I'm afraid.

To honor both my blahs and my hate, I've got two songs of the week. Numero uno is STP because I've been having a high school era renaissance:

I'm lookin' for a new stimulation
Quite bored of those inflatable ties
I'm lookin' for a new rock sensation
Dead fish don't swim around in jealous tides

I made excuses for a million lies
But all I got was humble kidney pie
So what

and numero dos is from my favorite crazy awards show attendee, spouting some long-winded shit on the Lady of Soul Awards and making Debbie Allen look at her like she was on some shit -- which I don't doubt, indeed I yelled "she is so fucking high" at the screen -- the divine Miss E:
I want somebody to walk up behind me
And kiss me on my neck and breathe on my neck

If you want to feel me
Better be divine
Bring me water, water for my mind
Give me nothin
Breathe love in my air
Don’t abuse me
Cause these herbs are rare

Posted by Candicissima at August 26, 2003 04:43 AM