"Oh Nina, what a lot of parties."
(Masked parties, Savage parties, Victorian parties, Greek parties, Wild West parties, Russian parties, Circus parties, parties where one had to dress as somebody else, almost naked parties in St John’s wood, parties in flats and studios and houses and ships and hotels and night clubs, in windmills and swimming-baths, tea parties at school where one ate muffins and meringues and tinned crab, parties at Oxford where one drank brown sherry and smoked Turkish cigarettes, dull dances in London and comic dances in Scotland and disgusting dances in Paris – all that succession and repetition of massed humanity . . . Those vile bodies . . . )
Friday was extremely productive. In a non-school-ish sense. I ran outside. Yes, I actually woke up, got dressed, and went running. It was a beautiful day and I didn't want to be inside. No excuse, I know. My legs are definitely protesting that decision today, but I hope I'll get used to it soon. That would mean that I'm actually sticking with something.
After the run I showered, cleaned the bathroom, and did laundry. Then I sat outside reading my new baby (Decline and Fall, Evelyn Waugh) before I got terribly tired and took a towel onto the lawn and fell asleep. It was glorious. I woke up and finally sewed buttons on shirts that have needed repair for about three months. Then I completely cleaned my bedroom, top to bottom. After an exhausting day, there was nothing left to do but watch Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains until Katie came over. And then Matt came over. Long story short, we ended up in the now smoke-free Coney Island at 3:30am. Small hani deluxe and fries. Hit the spot.
And then yesterday was a fail. I laid around all day. Saw my boyfriend for about an hour before he took off to New Hampshire (?). I watched Kind Hearts and Coronets, which was delightful. My parents left to go bowling, I played MarioParty for Wii all by myself and then The Sims 3 before Matt texted me. I went over there and did what we always do, sit in the garage. It was a beautiful night. I saw my brother Tom, and then Alex and Mannino came over. Mannino used the word "steakus" which served the purpose of cracking us up for about 20 minutes straight.
And then I came home and stayed up till 6am with my hookah, Facebook and A Very Potter Musical.
I want to play baseball.
I want the weather to make up its mind.
I want financial aid.
I know that this is more like a diary entry and less like a blog, but sometimes I want to give the 2 people that actually read this an accurate portrayal of my lazy, unsuccessful existence.
Isn't a blog always supposed to be like a diary? And if it isn't, shouldn't it at LEAST be an accurate portrayal of your existence - successful or otherwise??
ReplyDeleteHey - at least your blogging ;)
XOXO