ash (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} aislinnmaher) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} darkestdays,@ 2009-11-06 22:47:00 |
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WHO Penny and Aislinn; Appearance by Cameron
WHAT Regression and its consequences
WHERE Penny's Gig and.. well..
WHEN backdated Thursday
PROGRESS In Progress
RATING PG-13 (intoxication and drug use)
Aislinn stared at her wine glass, really really concentrating on not leaning over to the side, which for some reason, she really wanted to do. Maybe it was the third glass of wine, possibly the assorted shots/drinks at Penny's or even the last joint (of a few) she and Penny had shared in the dressing room. Whichever it was, Ash and her balance were not seeing eye to eye at the moment.
Earlier that day, Ash had re-read the texts between her and Cam the night before, and thought about the date that was supposed to be happening Friday. It sucked. Even though whatever it was that was going on between the two of them wasn't exactly defined, or maybe it was and could be classified as acquaintances/friends/people connected to Riley Drake with benefits, it still really hurt to have him text her.. TEXT her and tell her that they should cool it. So high school! Yes, telling her Riley was upset over text, that was fine. But to not call afterward, and actually talk? Did she mean that little to him? Maybe, maybe not. They were going to go on a date. So maybe they were more then just title with benefits. Maybe. Were. There were a lot of maybes and past-tensing. Too much. It was all to hard to think about, that was for sure. And so she resorted to her adolescent way of dealing with things like this. Calling one Penny Layne, whom she was supposed to meet up for shopping anyways, and asking her to include a little herbal remedy in her makeup bag. Penny always had the best shit. Shopping was a haze, but it did result in the wicked "dress" she was currently sporting. Sure, most women could wear it as a shirt, but Ash was a midget. Or at least, that was what she had been telling the people at the boutique where she bought it. So the shirt was (barely appropriate) dress length on Aislinn, and in the current state of mind she was in, it was perfect. Their afternoon had been spent in Penny's apartment "getting ready" for her gig, though that was a blur as well. She had sobered up enough after the pizza had arrived, but she couldn't exactly remember how her hair got curled or why some of it felt a little burned. The taxi driver seemed really nice when Penny and Ash had poured into the back of his cab, giggling like school girls. And the door man at the club that escorted them to the dressing room was very friendly, but too short. Ash liked them closer to 6 foot or taller. Thinking of him, Ash looked over towards the front of the club and gave him a little wave. Maybe when she'd remember. Looking back to the stage, she noticed Penny had finished whatever song she'd been wowing the crowd with, and had to stand up.
"Whoo! Penny!" She cheered and whistled, clapping her hands as loud as she could, where the rest of the crowd were more polite. If looks could kill, the table of haughty business women would have incinerated Ash ten times over. But whatever. She was hotter then them. They were all pencil skirts and face-lifting buns. Alright, so what she was wearing herself could have easily been appropriate for her job, but that didn't mean she deserved the daggers. And so she sneered and turned her attention back to the stage, where the Louise to her Thelma was currently entertaining the crowd with some beautiful music and banter that Jim Morrison would have been jealous of.
WHAT Regression and its consequences
WHERE Penny's Gig and.. well..
WHEN backdated Thursday
PROGRESS In Progress
RATING PG-13 (intoxication and drug use)
Aislinn stared at her wine glass, really really concentrating on not leaning over to the side, which for some reason, she really wanted to do. Maybe it was the third glass of wine, possibly the assorted shots/drinks at Penny's or even the last joint (of a few) she and Penny had shared in the dressing room. Whichever it was, Ash and her balance were not seeing eye to eye at the moment.
Earlier that day, Ash had re-read the texts between her and Cam the night before, and thought about the date that was supposed to be happening Friday. It sucked. Even though whatever it was that was going on between the two of them wasn't exactly defined, or maybe it was and could be classified as acquaintances/friends/people connected to Riley Drake with benefits, it still really hurt to have him text her.. TEXT her and tell her that they should cool it. So high school! Yes, telling her Riley was upset over text, that was fine. But to not call afterward, and actually talk? Did she mean that little to him? Maybe, maybe not. They were going to go on a date. So maybe they were more then just title with benefits. Maybe. Were. There were a lot of maybes and past-tensing. Too much. It was all to hard to think about, that was for sure. And so she resorted to her adolescent way of dealing with things like this. Calling one Penny Layne, whom she was supposed to meet up for shopping anyways, and asking her to include a little herbal remedy in her makeup bag. Penny always had the best shit. Shopping was a haze, but it did result in the wicked "dress" she was currently sporting. Sure, most women could wear it as a shirt, but Ash was a midget. Or at least, that was what she had been telling the people at the boutique where she bought it. So the shirt was (barely appropriate) dress length on Aislinn, and in the current state of mind she was in, it was perfect. Their afternoon had been spent in Penny's apartment "getting ready" for her gig, though that was a blur as well. She had sobered up enough after the pizza had arrived, but she couldn't exactly remember how her hair got curled or why some of it felt a little burned. The taxi driver seemed really nice when Penny and Ash had poured into the back of his cab, giggling like school girls. And the door man at the club that escorted them to the dressing room was very friendly, but too short. Ash liked them closer to 6 foot or taller. Thinking of him, Ash looked over towards the front of the club and gave him a little wave. Maybe when she'd remember. Looking back to the stage, she noticed Penny had finished whatever song she'd been wowing the crowd with, and had to stand up.
"Whoo! Penny!" She cheered and whistled, clapping her hands as loud as she could, where the rest of the crowd were more polite. If looks could kill, the table of haughty business women would have incinerated Ash ten times over. But whatever. She was hotter then them. They were all pencil skirts and face-lifting buns. Alright, so what she was wearing herself could have easily been appropriate for her job, but that didn't mean she deserved the daggers. And so she sneered and turned her attention back to the stage, where the Louise to her Thelma was currently entertaining the crowd with some beautiful music and banter that Jim Morrison would have been jealous of.