P l a n e t C h a i r
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this is my turn at a turn of
events I figured I might as well actually get all diary-like on this diary. My writing brain is constrained to thinking in essay/poetry form and that makes me inclined to make write all these entries with a "one-topic, one thousand words" train of thought. Doing this will help me deprogram myself. I don't want to have to think along that kind of writing paradigm everytime I write for this thing because then I wouldn't be able to update very often like I've been doing so ever since this thing started. I have to be able to accustom myself to a fashion that will enable me to actually make these entries as timely as possible. Which means I shall sacrifice prosaic analness for the sake of a "fully real-time and immersive fiction experience". Ha ha. I am so freaking witty. Yesterday I went with Paolo, Claire, Gracie, Michael, Athena, Ben, Mocchi and Psyduck to a benefit show at the St. Benilde College, (heretofore to be referred to as CSB). Some of the bands were great, but some of them sucked. I realize such a description doesn't say much, but then I'm not expected to really record all the events for you now, am I? Besides, I've never really maintained that much of a "relationship" with most musical acts that come across my life, so uh... so screw you... or something. But that aside, I will say that I did enjoy some bands, and in particular the female led acts were cool, and not cause I'm some kind of sick "i like chick singers" kind of person, but merely they just happened to be fun at the moment, okay? And just because I can't even name the bands doesn't mean I was just idiot-rocking, okay? (Incidentally, I wasn't rocking either, but that's because I'm not a big errr... rocker... or whatever.) I also commented on how I really hated Edgar Allan Hoes, and when Ben asked why, I phrased my reasoning in the words of Paolo, which was they're a pop "punk-rock juke box". To which Ben attempted a crap-assed parry, "You just got that from Paolo." This kind of talk gets me really fumed, cause I sincerely just about hate it when anybody labels me as (as someone else put it) "Paolo Cruz's Yes-Man" just because I happen to hang with him a lot and share similar views (similar, not identical, okay, you dunderheads?!). I must remember to do something really evil to Ben next time. In any case, I must also mention that one of the additional reasons why I hate the Hoes is the blasted small scale cult they've developed through their friends and associates even though they're not terribly great, not to mention that I hate a couple of their members, who I will not mention for the obvious reason that my name is all over this website and I have to actually talk to one or two of them once in a while. I of course, resort to being unabashedly plastik when I do. After the show was done I went to the sidewalk outside, sat down and listened in on other people's conversations, which I love to do when I'm alone. I'm an eavesdropper. Whenever I mention that I am a sometimes eavesdropper, I think some believe I'm just blowing empty bubbles to construct a fictional identity of myself, especially when you add that to other past/past and present habits that I've mentioned such as my manipulativeness in grade school, my nihilist high school image and my perceived persona in college. But I digress. I also ate at Tapa King with Gracie and Michael and they're offering me to help do some interactive/utilitarian artwork for their school. I accepted, but first I'm waiting till I push through with my papier mache plans. Get myself being able to work on my own time scale before committing to something else, I realize. As for today, well, I ate dinner with Paolo, Claire, and Claire's family. As usual, the atmosphere of the hotel made my analness manifest the compelling urge to perform aesthetic manipulation (id est, decorative arrangement) on my food. I arranged the sushi in a semi-circle around the saucebowl with a lone piece of raw fish on each end. I placed the smoked tangigue so that they formed three triangles overlapping each other with a horizontal sauce stripe, as well as arranging some other fancy layouts that I forget right now. After dinner P. and C. decided (for some bizarre capricious reason) to go visit Ben's prom at the New World Hotel (well ok, it isn't really capricious, because they were planning that the day before, but I still don't see a good reason for us going there anyway). I really don't feel like verbalizing but let me just add a few more words cause I'm getting distracted by Slander # 7 and I want to just get up and read it right now: I hate Southridgeans. Ben is an exception in some ways, but I still hate them Southridgeans. Am I god damned bigot about that or what? *Incidentally, the title of this entry is a direct reference to Athena's diary, which bears the caption, "this is just a turn of events." I thought it would be funny if I used this to headline my first narration of events in this journal. CORNER OF CULTURE CONSUMPTION CODED: Sierra's Gabriel Knight 3:
Blood of the Sacred, Blood of the Damned. Again. I'm on Disc 2.
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