Expect to see some new posts up come this September, once I’m back at school.

After that I fell a little behind because the next morning, I felt like I was hit by a car. I was utterly exhausted after the show, it was kind of ridiculous. The next little bit of time was spent getting caught up and ahead for my Easter Break trip – I went to Pittsburgh to see a friend, and currently we’re in Akron to see her parents for the holiday. I love being here, her family are so welcoming and so cool. And I love her house, omg.

Anyway, that’s just a minor update as to what’s going on. Also in the works are posts about my lack of housing for next year, my lack of financial aid for next year, and the panic attack set into works by both of those lacks. Unfortunately I’m not sure what I’m doing next year. Thanks, SJU. Really.

This is ridiculous. The ticket itself was only $25, it was nearly half as much in fees!

I say attention, you say whore; attention! Whore! Attention! Whore!

Sounds like a Panic! lyric.

When the band members came out, she was a fan of theirs and wanted to get their attention. But she was too afraid to do anything. So I cheered, and one stopped and looked at me for a second, then goes “whoo!” back at me, laughing at me (I was the only one brave enough, I guess). I push her over once someone else starts asking him for autographs, and ask if she can get a pic with him. We wound up losing our Sharpies (but we got them back lol, the guys recognized us as the girls with the Sharpies), had to keep an eye on the band members so as not to lose the markers (we were hoping more bands were coming out too).

Out of curiosity, what constitutes a groupie? Is a groupie someone who would be willing? Or someone who does? Because, I have to say, I’d have done it tonight, if I’d worked up the balls to do it. I hugged one of the guys, kissed his cheek (the bff says I terrified him, but I don’t think I did – I’ve seen terrified rockstars, that wasn’t one. I think she’s just jealous she didn’t have the nerve to do it), and that even felt like a lot of nerve. But they were really cool, I liked them. I’d have gone back with them, I do believe. There’s a reason I don’t go to concerts alone – I’d find my way onto a bus, whether with a band member or working for my keep, and I’d just disappear. I self-sabotage so I can’t do it – purposely carry as little as possible (don’t have anything I need if the offers arises), won’t go alone, make sure I go with people who would never ever let me actually go.

That’s another thing, too – I’ve told a few people about my willingness, and I’ve said for years that I wanted to be just like Penny Lane. Yet no one takes me seriously. I’ve searched for years for someone willing to spend a summer and pack up and just go, and everyone says they will, but no one really means it. It’s just a fun pipe dream for them. I really want to do it though.

Does that make me a groupie, because I’d have tapped that? (To be quite honest, I’d have loved to – he was hot.) Or am I still in the clear, because I never have? Where is that line? Is it in intent, willingness or in practice?

That was a very, very girly post.

On the train home, had a snippy moment with That Guy. Not the one from class, but the one from CL. I’d asked if he wanted to hang out Friday, since I had all day before I had to catch the train, to which he told me he was too sick. Ten minutes after my train pulls out of Penn Station, he’s texting me to ask if I’m free tonight. Um. Definitely already told you I was leaving. And why. I had a snippy moment because gee, thanks for listening to me, for proving what I say is even remotely valuable to you.

But, I’ve spoken to him since, to get the clue out there that while yes, I am agitated, I do want to go out with him again, still. I might see what he’s doing Sunday evening, when I get back to NYC. I would prefer more notice in the future, but. My birthday’s coming up, too. I want to do something for it.

There’s really not much else to post about right now. I found out one of my ‘friends’ is a fake bitch who is too dumb to use her phone properly (she sent me a text talking about me – way to fail, you dumb slut), and I rose above it to walk away from her. It felt good to know I’ve escaped, I’ve gotten out, and that I’m not apart of the bullshit drama from home anymore. And it felt good to know that while she’s trudging out a miserable existence here in our little shithole, I got out. I live in New York fucking City. You have fun with your miserable excuse of an existence, bitch.

Like I said, not much to post about. Maybe once I get back to school, there will be more.