I never knew I'd beg down at your feet

I have changed. I don't know if i have lost something or gained anything else. If I have gained anything ( you know...one of those things you should collect when you grow older..whisdome, gloriousness, an adult kind of fashion sense? ) it hasn't yet shown.
And it's not like i'm not tying to find it. All week I have lazed inside my bed seeking for that striking knowledge to hit me while watching Invader Zim or Angel&Buffy re-runs. I did try.
However, it's not really coming out or I haven't done the proper thing to make it stop hiding wherever it may be... So for now I just feel like i'm losing parts of myself. And there's nothign really in the air convincing me of any other truth.

The week I've spent with Eva, basically. Everybody else was out of town. The only option to call and do things with was me then. I'm okay with that, i guess.It's the same thing I do usually. We went to the movies ( "Because I said so" , which was surprisingly not-as-worse-as-you'd-think starring Mandy Moore.Partially because there's the dad fromSeventh Heaven shagging Diane Keaton and because Gilmore Girls' Lorelai was playing a Psychocologist.D'uh. Eva and I partially agree on how Lauren Graham is basically there to portray me - in different life stages - on screen for the world to see.Gilmore Girls was just the beginning! ) , got stuuuupidly drunk on a saturday night ( how do you spend only 5 bucks on a night out and drink about 6 beers, 4 tequilas, Jägermeister and Baileys? You go out with me and let me flirt with the bumper.I do own at life. ) and had lovely chats at nights with bottles of whine.
Fun stuff.
What girls do.

Things were different though.I didn't mosh when we were out.And i didn't feel good after the night of drinking. I mean you never feel good after so much liquor. It was a different way of "not good" though. Not the usual sickness. Just a plain, rubbish "i don't like this.". And i loooove this usualy.It didn't feel like me. Not post-drunk Ina. And i've got a load of memories of that me to compare.
And I only bitched at a guy once.Which is a fucking joke in that club, really. Usually I end up nearly punching somebody cause those boys are stupid twats smacking girls in the faces and calling it "moshing".
I was wearing a skit.and heels.and i had my hair up.Which is good. I like that. But is that me? I'm a skirt-wearing girl? Isn't that a ridiculous question?

It frightens me though. To an extend I and my mind can't follow.

I feel alienated from myself.Like i've lost those accents and edges of the "me" that has made me, well, me. It's confusing and weird and frustrating.
I still like the same things I always did. On thursday I told the dj to play Distillers and what did he do? Play the fucking Hunger. I wanted the Distillers goddamnit! But i don't get them. I get the washed out acoustic version of them

That's exactly how me feels currently. Acoustic. There's no bass-line, no drums and no cow-bells. I love my damn cow-bells. It feels nekkied and slippery and gross at times even.