Happy 18th Birthday - 2004-01-11 - 12:09 a.m.
Oh yeah. It's my birthday. Since a few minutes ago. I am 18. A legal adult. Although, for some reason, not of legal drinking age. There are times where I miss living in Quebec, where you can get boozed up at 18. Or actually, 14, if you count the convenience store I lived next to.
Today's (or yesterday, rather. Saturday, anyway) been a fucked up emotional rollercoaster. I called Blair, this well-known piercer in Toronto, to ask him if he wanted to go to this BME meet-up in a couple of weeks. He agreed to come and was happy that I told him about it. I think, just for that, that I'm going to meet Shannon Larratt.
Shannon is the creator and founder of BME, Body Modification Ezine. He is pretty much every IAMer's God, in a way. Without him, I would never have met Blair, Tyler, or any other IAMers. I wouldn't have my penis tattoo, I wouldn't have my tongue pierced or my lobes scalpelled.
So, meeting him would be really cool, to me.
Anyway. So today I went to see The Last Samurai with my girlfriend and two of our friends. (Hear that? I made friends.) It wasn't that bad. Afterwards we went to Square One, but it was closed and we somehow got locked inside. A small crowd was waiting for the doors to magically unlock or something.
So I found an intercom and asked security why the fuck the doors were locked. He told me it was because he locked them. Really eh?
He could see us through a camera, so he guided me to this buzzer that unlocked one of the doors, although my girlfriend found it before I did since I couldn't hear half of what he was saying.
We went back to my house, the four of us. This is where it got weird. It was like we kept taking turns getting depressed, on the bus. I informed Louise (one of the friends) that one of the guys I live with is very racist. She did not take it too well. I started getting mad and frustrated, at how I don't even experience freedom in my own HOUSE. I can't bring black people or asian people or ANY people that aren't white to my house without someone fucking making a racist comment on them afterwards.
I just kept thinking, "You are living in a world of restrictions," over and over again.
There were a lot of people in our house. Well, not that many. But Elijah's band and a few others.
My girlfriend and I had sex a couple of times. There's nothing strange about that. But our friends had sex too. Not in the same room, mind you. But still. It was kind of weird. I'm not sure if I should be putting this kind of shit in here, it really makes me nervous considering the amount of non-diarylanders that read it, but I feel like it nonetheless.
When I went back downstairs Aaron asked "Were you guys having an orgy up there or what?", which shocked the fuck out of me. We weren't. But still.
His room is connected to mine, so he has to go through my room to get to his. So he knows the rules. When the lights are out, he stays out. When the lights are on, he can come in.
When he saw that the lights were out, but that there were four people up there, he assumed the worst.
At least no racist comments were made.
Copyright allthatsleft@diaryland.com - 2002
Brushes: Misguided.Buddha