tryst

I'm coming out of a week long depression you never knew I was in- with a fizzy caramel-colored beverage, the newest Sting cd (good lord it's good), and an actual lust to go dancing tonight. No more 14 hours of sleeping a day -- no more crying in the mornings for no reason when I come home from work -- no more boredom. I never get bored -- or depressed. It was the sickest feeling for me, and I'm hoping it's gone for good now...

I'm perpetually sad, but never depressed. I need my sadness for my success, for my happiness -- it's a good sadness. With this brieff depression, however, I didn't even want to listen to music (this is serious for me, I even eat, sleep, and poop to music). I just wanted to sleep...not because I was tired...to sleep so that I would not have to be awake. But I am awake now.

I've been watching my Alien Quadrilogy. I'm finishing it off with Ressurrection (my least fav) today. The director's cuts are soooo fucking good. Lots of extra gore, esp in Alien3. When I'm done I'm gonna watch them all over again with the commentary. Shit rocks my ass. Well worth the 80 bucks I spent. I always wished the doctor Clemens could have stayed alive in Alien3 -- I so have the hots for him -- but it's not his fault that the xenomorph put a fucking hole through his head. Dammit.

So excited about going to the DC Burlesque. Think I'm gonna hafta go shopping and redye my hair. Maybe I'll meet the porn-lover of my dreams.

Or just drink many a cocktail. Wait, the Black Cat doesn't even serve cocktails, does it.

I'm going to take Puddy out in the snow. He likes it. His paws only break through the ice sometimes, but when they do, the way he jumps is priceless. And he likes to roll in the powdery stuff.