This post is going to be so fucking disjointed. I apologise.

So. I have to say that this was one of the best weekends of my life. I had a genuinely pleasant time, until Saturday night, of course, when I went to (e:ThePink) and got more drunk than I've ever been... like ever. It was the first time I've ever puked from drinking. I've been welcomed to the club.

Men are disgusting. Yes, I was trashed, but I wasn't so stupid enough as to not notice guys trying to take advantage of my friends and me after a few drinks. Maybe we were asking for it, but I'm still repulsed. I always see things that people do and think, "What the FUCK? Where in hell did they get the idea that it's their place to do THAT? I would NEVER do something like that." People are gross, myself included.

I detest the acrobatics of dating. I vote we all knock on the object of our affections door and tell them what's what and see what happens. Of course, I'll never have the cajones to do this, but anyone who does has serious respect with me. (Or, as Ali G would say, Respeckt.) If I ever work up the nerve and manage to hold onto it, someone's getting good and given a confession, Alison-style. No wussing out involved. I've got htings to say, hot and cold, but I'm scared shitless that I'll never have the balls to lay out the cold, even though that's incredibly unfair. I think I'm even more scared that one day I will spill it, and then there'll be nothing left for the hot stuff. I'm just going to try and ignore it, now. Maybe, by the time we're good and older, I'll have forgotten and will be able to have a nice life... or something. For now, I kind of feel sick with guilt.

(Sorry if this post is getting lame.)

I dyed my hair earlier today. The blonde was making me dumber. This is the closest I've been to my natural hair color in years. (see stupid pictures below.)

I really like the song 'Co-Pilot', by Letters to Cleo.

I got a call a little bit ago from an ex, telling me that he's leaving for Iraq in 13 days and that he needs some of his shit back.
We barely dated, but for some reason, this call really upset me. It gave me that pain in the bottom of your gut you got when you were naughty and your parents made you sit in the corner. And I haven't even done anything wrong! He was an immature jackass, and I patted myself on the back repeatedly for ditching him.
I guess it's just because I'm stressed out. School, divorce, male-related issues... kill myself. So anyways, I did a gloriously recockulous Myspace photo shoot to make myself feel better. Here is a brief sample -- to see the rest, you'll just have to friend me, damnit.
(There's pretty much nothing else, actually, so don't sweat it.)

Holy ex-boyfriend, Batman! The KARL has just commented on one of my new Myspace pictures! Is this the night of boyfriends or WHAT?





... because I always do pictures with a hand or two in the foreground.



... because I'm just sweet like this.



... because I basically crack myself up.


oh, (e:lilho)! Here is that picture...
And, for everyone elses clarification, this is a picture of Karl, my one and only uber serious boyfriend, mostly because he's the only guy I've ever met who's been hopped up on enough drugs to take me on full-time. This is the single best picture I've ever seen of him... no joke.





Let's just end this week now... I kind of make myself sick, sometimes... let's just crawl into bed and never come out again, 'kay?

i joined myspace yesterday.

... i'm already addicted. anyone else on there? wanna be my friend?

i know you do.

right. so.
many of you (e:peeps) know that i am a die-hard musical theater NERD. i mean it. i've done the work shops, training camps, 24 hours plays... i've done it all. i love musicals, musicalsmusicalsmusicals.
well, last year i went in RENT, and it was fucking amazing. for half the run i was Maureen, and for the other half, Mimi. i did it with Collowuial Theater Company, of which I am the Resident Vocalist. fucking awesome.
which is why I'm extremely nervous about the movie of rent coming out on november 23rd. i mean, everyone in the cast except for 2 people were in the original broadway company, but <i>still</i>.
before i tell you now the part that really upsets me, understand that i am fully aware that this is the most pretentious, asshole point of view ever. got that settled? okay.
i hate other people singing the songs.
no, like seriously: i was in regal cinemas a few weeks ago, and on the jumboscreen in the lobby they were playing the trailer, with 'season of love', and about nine 12-year old girls with too much white eyeliner were singing the words. incorrectly.
okay, have you even heard of rent before this?

not that i don't think it's fucking awesome that this movie is opening up all kinds of people to a wonderful story they haven't heard before, but what can i say, i'm a pretentious musical asshole.

lol (e:pmt), : "AIDS AIDS AIDS!!!!!!"

now, some pictures for yr viewing enjoyment.


















i just reread this post. i am an asshole and a half. oh well. anyone feelin' me?

i would like to take this opportunity to say that i fully support anyone else who doesn't plan on dressing up for the (e:halloweenparty) tomorrow. join me in lameness, friends!





also, does anyone know of a restaurant in buffalo (preferably as close to (e:strip) and our neck of the woods as possible) that serves pirogues? i'm sure one of you (e:polishpeeps) would have an idea.

my birthday/christmas is in 61 days. before the football game this weekend, (e:drchlorine) asked me what it is i want.

i have decided.

forget world peace, this would be far more satisfying:










my whole life, like most girls, i've carried around with me a bunch of stupid, romantic things i want to do/happen to me before i get too old and ugly to look cute doing them. at the top of my list, are being kissed under mistletoe, and being kissed at midnite on new years eve (y'know, right at the end of the countdown, when everyone's jumping around drunkenly). neither of these have happened yet, but, should adam brody be within tackling distance of myself at an appropriate time (er, inappropriate, i guess.), his ass is getting good and kissed, alison-style.

yeah. so.
i definitely chopped my hair again.
it's not as short as last time, when i went kelly osbourne, but it's damn short.
i can't tell if i look older or younger- older, i think. my boobs, however, definitely look bigger.
yeah, i didn't think it was possible either.





oh, art history!

yeah. so. i just had the most random evening/morning.
i just walked in my door like, two seconds ago.
more to come, if i decide to wake up tomorrow.

right. so. i hate astronomy. and i mean like, detest it.
over the past couple of weeks, we were supposed to have been keeping some lame ass "moon journal" where we wander outside every nite and record what the moon looks like and where it is in the sky and blahblahblah. um, did i do it? even once? nope. why would i go outside where it's cold where i can freeze in the comfort of my attic, watching the OC? no, i didn't do it, not once, and now this mother's due tomorrow and i have nothing to hand in. i guess i'll say i just forgot it to buy me the weekend, but i know i won't do it then either. i could also just talk some studious little chanel-wearing debutante into letting me see hers tomorrow, and just copying everything down, but kids have way too many morals these days. whatta bunch of goons.
so anyways, yeah. i'm gonna fail astronomy. not that i care anymore, because i'm sure ecc won't care if i failed astronomy.

medicore future, ahoy!



hmm, what else have i done lately? absolutely nothing. i've been really depressed the past couple weeks, and it's starting to really show. i've gone to school like, twice, and teachers are getting pissed. meh. i'm just really tired and don't have the energy to do anything but mope around. i'm like eeyore, without all that damned humor. i've been putting all my energy into my writing, and it seems as though the english gods are smiling down on me as a result... or maybe they can just see down my blouse, i'onno.
last nite (e:drchlorine) and i went out to wheatfield and got lost in THE MAIZE ::dun dun dun:: it was great fun. as we paid to go on in, this guy working there warned us that it was "muddy" and that there'd be no refunds.
but of course, we played it cool and were like "a little mud? in buffalo? no problem!"
so then he goes on to tell us that we can choose the easy, medium, or hard "maize", and so, of course, we choose the hard one, figuring that our combined brain power should shoot us straight on through it like nothing else.

oh my sweet jesus.

he shouldn't have called it "muddy". he should've screamed "STANDING WATER". this place was the freaking titanic, we were sinking so deep. at a few points, the mud tried to eat my sneakers. so picture us two, wandering through a swampy cornfield for an hour, trying not to be shown up by a bunch of twelve year old girls who were also running around.
at one point, we were terribly lost (the debate on who has the worst sense of direction stands), and asked one of the "corn cops" wandering around the place what to do. yeah. we're pretty sure he lied to us and got us even more stuck.

in any event, we ended up riding back to the strip barefoot and smelly, because our shoes were so caked with mud. a grand time was had by all.


but what will this weekend bring? a party for (e:lilho) and (e:tina), you say? how marvelous! the only shitty thing is that i have to be dressed and respectable looking at 9:45 the next morning to give tours to respective parents at my school. fabulous, really. but anyone who is going to (e:lilho)'s please message me, as i am sorely in need of a ride.

until tomorrow, hopefully,
alison.

huh. well, i guess i won't have to ponder how to pay for the new school anymore, cause i'm not going. i got in, and now i'm going. great. fabulous, really. i'ms uch a brat, but it's just that, like pretty much everyone, i've wanted to go to new york since forever- it's like the place to go when you don't fit anywhere else. but, because of le divorce, i cannot, so it's looking like ub or buff state for me, of wherever looks like they have the best writing program. blah. so much for childhood dreams.