h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Thought it might be time for a longish journal entry. I haven't done a long one in a while, and there's a bit worth updating you on.

Hm. Where should I begin. The latest thing worth noting was the Mortiis concert, the journal entry to which I deleted for various reasons.
Well, we got in with only a few jeers from the non gothic people around the venue. I didn't want to carry my coat around, and didn't have any pockets, so we ended up carrying around everything in our bras. Sigh.
Anyway. It was rather good. The first support band were pretty fresh, although there was something resembling VNV Nation about them. Anyway. Half way through this Lucy was approached by what appeared to be a very large rat. He offered to buy us drinks. So we happily walked over to the bar. I was introduced to his friends. Here is all went terribly wrong. *groan*
One of his friends was lovely, the other... well. Wasn't. About 50ish. Not very aesthetically pleasing. Rather. Well. Stoned. He then tried to engage me in a lively if rather dull conversation about Slipknot and Metallica whilst constantly spitting in my ear. I got terribly drunk.
He then said to me "Want to powder your nose". The ditsy girl I am, my first thought was "The cheeky b*stard, what's wrong with my makeup... ohh.." eventually realising what he meant I waved him off. As did I again every other time out of 100.
I soon ran away, and tried to start a conversation with his friend. Who was, might I add, lovely. We got rather friendly and intimate. But sadly this cost me missing about 35 minutes of Mortiis on stage, by this point I was virtually unconscious. Eventually I stumbled out of the venue and threw up *sigh*, I hate drinking. Then there was an uproar, as my Dad, who I had earlier persuaded to pick us up as I knew I would be in no fit state to use a train, started screaming at this chap who was touching me in a rather... ahem, intimate fashion. Eventually I got home. God knows how. And waking up to find myself wearing a Muse T-shirt, a polka dot skirt and a pair of boots, went down stairs with nothing more than a deep hatred for all things male and alcoholic. My best friend also kindly deleted off my phone that lovely boy's number and am now unable to contact him. Sigh.

Second thing worth noting was a 'party' that I went to. I managed to make an enemy (someone with whom there is a mutual hatred). Sadly I decided to become enemies with a satanist. Good choice on my part. It all started with his sweat band. Now. If you know me, you will also know I have deep seated troubles with sweat bands.
Any hoo, someone made the comment "Gee, doesn't Dicky* look like a goth today?" I snort. "Hey what is it?", "he's wearing a sweat band.", "What? Don't goths wear sweat bands.", I reply: "No, no they don't, but Avril Lavigne does." If looks could kill I'd be pushing up the daisies.
This was mistake no 1. Don't insult a fellow 'goths' accessories, or if you do, be subtle.
Anyway. I then made the mistake of asking "Do you like NIN?". There are certain 'types' of NIN fans. Some, deserve to be shot, others, given shiny medals and some, just like me, should be regarded with only mild interest. Sadly this boy was one of the fans which deserve to be shot.
"OH YEAH! I MEAN, TRENT REZNORS, like f*****g genius!"
"Oh yes?"
"I mean, let me tell you about the Reznor/Manson conflict of 198.."
"Oh god."
[half an hour later]
"So I mean, REZNOR, comes up with this f*****g brilliant album, and I'm like WOAH. I mean, Further Down the Spiral..."
*weeps*
*pulls self together*
"So, what songs do you like then? Which is your favourite album."
"Definately Hurt, Perfect Drug... I mean, like doesn't The Great Below, like make you want to top yourself?"
*exchanges meaningful glances with Lucy who then looks depressed*
*rubs arm ruefully*
*has an extremely private emotion kicked around in the dirt by a satanist who likes the Red Hot Chilli Peppers*
*weeps some more*
Then things just generally got worse. He kept on showing me pictures in Asian Restaurant Monthly and saying "ISN'T HE LIKE, totally buff!"
I could tell you about the whole 'tea bagging' incident, but that might actually scar you.

I also saw the Scissor Sisters. Ahem. Well. Okay. Not my music I must admit, but when you see them live, the energy is fantastic. It's hard to hate them. Especially Ana Matronic *wolf whistle* *drops to the ground* *winks* *tips hat* YEE FREAKIN HAW! That woman truely is stunning. I'm in love! It's about time I found a new female crush, I was starting to get bored obsessing over Till Lindemann, Mister Reznor and Peter Murphy.

Uhm. Just a little interjection. Sadly I have started smoking again, yes I know. Giving my money to the tobacco companies. Killing myself. Fueling capitalism. Succumbing to peer pressure. No spine. etc etc. I've heard it all, no need to repeat it. I'm sorry to those who I know are close to me and object, but again, I'm really sorry. *cringe* Sorry.

Today I saw my old friend Jess (and several of her lovely friends, I shall have to guess their names: Tom, Matt, James, something and somewho) Aaah, how I've missed her, I got to inspect her belly button piercing, contemplate where I should get my next one, decide it can wait after hearing how long she's grounded for (in case you were wondering, first year of college when in digs, lip ring, viva la pierce!) and as we were sitting there with a cup of coffee and an ashtray for 5, several cameras came on the scene. Followed by none other than my hero, Alexander Armstrong! For those of you who aren't familiar with him, he's rumoured to be the next permenant replacement for Angus Deayton on Have I Got News For You, and the reason why I really love him, he's the chap on the Pimms advert! Hurrah! Pimms a clock! So whilst Matt tried to engage me in conversation on the topic of the Id, Ego and Superego, I was staring lovingly at the back of his head. Seriously. He was sitting a meter away! Hurrah! He noticed I was staring and gave me a sympathetic "You know who I am but don't know my name, never mind, I'm still flattered you know my face but please stop staring at me" sort of look. Sadly I didn't get his autograph. Shame. But being there was honor enough.

Well. That was a long post. I know nobody is going to reply. As I've become overnight the least popular person on g2. Well, nice to tell someone anyway, even if it is some lurker who will not post but just think "loser" and slink off.
Take care, avoid cheese, drink ribena and read American Psycho (I'm obsessed with that book, as is the rest of my class after reading a sex scene out loud)
God bless,

Nat.A.Lee

By the way, I also managed to secure tickets to go see Rammstein and Brixton Carling Academy in February.

Nat.A.Lee