Okay, we just had the first party of the semester, and I am still ever so feeling the effects of my many beverages, so I thought it might be a good time to update now.
So, it was my roommate Beth’s 21st birthday party, but it was a good excuse as any to have a party. We liquored up a bit — a little pre-party, if you will, to get in the mood. Soon, a ton of people were over, and it was rip roarin’.
Nothing of interest truly happened while the party was going. These random friends of Chris J.’s came and I tried to act all sweet and nice because I have this weird feeling that girls who don’t know me think I am some kind of arrogant bitch — probably that feeling stems from the fact that I’ve been called that many a time, when the fact is, I’m far from it. Anyway, I played twister with these random girls and entertained them and drank my Strawberry Margaritas out of a very classy glass, while watching the festivities commence.
While I was being a dork and checking my e-mail in Erik’s room, we hear a knock at the door, and lo and behold as you will, it’s the RA, so we are all ushered out of the apartment, while the Boys have to take the rap for everything. Sucky! Fortunately, they only take our beer and don’t know about our secret stash of hard liquor (which is, of course, all I drink). So, the party moves to our apartment, all somber like. Jesse Huff soon suggests driving over to Superior, Wisconsin (only 20 mins away) to get more liquor since Duluth liquor stores close at 10. Jesse Huff is a random boy who hit on me Spring Semester freshman year and I kissed a lot, though nothing came of it ’cause I was in the process of falling for lovely Fargo Boy Erik at the time.
So, Erik, my roommate Corina, Jesse and I drive to the liquor store, where I FINALLY get some Scotch. We come back to the Girls’ apartment and try to make another party, though it doesn’t quite work, ’cause Pure Funk is playing on the CD Player.
I get online, and randomly decide I need to call my ex-boyfriend Nick, even though Erik is having a minor, though subtle, hissy-fit about it. I call Nick, blab for a half hour, and then go to find Erik, who is completely way beyond any sense of the word drunk at my computer. Oh my. So, I do my best to flop him on my bed, and that is where he lies, and this is where I am, slightly tipsy, sneezing randomly and ready to crash for the night.
That’s my excitement for tonight. More coherence to follow soberly tomorrow.
I just dropped off Erik at the airport.
We both got about an hour of sleep, but it was worth the tiredness.
I have so much packing, laundry, etc. to do, but I’m going to dinner with Nick tonight, PLUS the new Gatsby movie is on.
Rock on.
So, my 20th birthday has come and gone, without much fanfare at all. My brother invited us to the beach where he works, so my parents and Erik and I ventured out at 10 AM. Erik and I, being the children of night that we are, got only about two hours of sleep, so we crashed the entire way. We arrived, ate the Olive Garden, played in the ocean for a bit and then came home. Very quiet, but surrounded by people I love.
We had a nice night tonight — went out to dinner and saw State and Main, which was fairly good. It was written by David Mamet, which is always a plus.
More to say, but I’m boring tonight and my kid awaits.
It’s amazing the little things that make me happy.
I’m sitting, drinking great coffee, wearing my new favourite accessory (this red ski hat that says “Bama Tide” — it gives me this half retro/ half Abercrombie and Fitch look), listening to my newest obsession song, which is an old one, I know, but I just recently came to love. These lyrics are long, but good, and oh, what love affairs I have with my art, and most of the time, they’re most satisfying than the real thing. I just wish I could bottle these moods —
– off to pick up that kid from the airport. He makes me happy.
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My sleeping schedule is so entirely screwed up. Last night, I got about three hours of sleep, so I fell utterly exhausted into my nice warm bed at 9 PM, only to awake at 12:30 AM, wide-eyed to the world.
That’s okay, though, ’cause I do so enjoy my latenight vigils, though not when I have to get up in the morning (in 6 hours, in fact).
So, the kid from Fargo, Erik, is arriving tomorrow in the afternoon, and my excitement level is really not where it should be. I missed him so much the first week, and then when I realized half of my missing him stemmed from the fact that I was bored out of my redhaired skull, the romantic missing twinges dwindled, and now, I think, faded completely.
I’m having scary “maybe we should take a break” thoughts. Nothing is wrong with our relationship at all — we get along great, we’re buddies, we’re cozy, we can talk for hours. I’m bored with this stability, however. This was my initial worry in even beginning another serious relationship.
We’ll see how things go tomorrow and I’ll probably have a fickle change of heart and be back on here, gushing about him.
I have this deepset feeling, though, that that’s not gonna happen.
Ohwell, the world goes on I suppose, in some form or another.
The Drama Queen needs to sleep.
There really isn’t anything to say at the moment. I’m digging in my brain for something scandalous, and nothing is emerging. I’ve just been cleaning out my closets for the past few days, a task which started when I was trying desperately to find the Italian champagne I had hidden back there six months ago when I was home for summer — it was a welcome home present from Russ. I think my Mom found it, however, and tossed it, along with several cans of skunky Icehouse I acquired the other day. Ohwell, she can think it was all my brother’s. Besides, don’t fret — my alcohol supply isn’t completely diminished. I still have a thermos half full of vodka hidden somewhere.
It’s about 60 degrees outside and smells like spring. There are even birds chirping outside the window, and in a little over a week, I have to return to the arctic.
Back to cleaning, I suppose. I really need some sort of vice or scandal or new interesting thing to go back with. Maybe I should get my clit pierced.
Not really. I just wanted to say “clit.”
It’s been a while, I realize, and yes, I am in (semi) warmer place where my usually fairly active pace has slowed to an almost non-existent pace, with mornings beginning at 2 PM and evenings ending at 5 AM. Not out of wild nights, mind you, but of restlessness and insomnia and general laziness.
I wish I had all my music here. I’ve downloaded some things, but nothing as comforting as I have in Duluth.
So, what’s been the story here, you ask? Well, I’ll repeat: not much. I didn’t have high expectations. I actually didn’t have any expectations, but I do know that this place doesn’t kill me like it used to. It used to just fill me with some many memories of Nick and stuff, and I would fall to pieces. But now that I have apparently passed that part of my life, it just bores me.
I’ve seen few people since I’ve been home, though I’ve surprisingly had a lot of offers. I always regret not having a group of friends to come home to for breaks.
I saw Jason, who had a strangely long-haired leather-jacketed European look to him. I literally didn’t recognize him on my front porch when he first came over. We had a good time. That’s a friendship I’ve never really understood because I think I have reason enough to hate the kid’s guts many times over. He’s never been there for me when I needed him, called me lots of names (and I him), but yet we’re buddies.
I also saw a young man whom I’ll call “M” for no other reason than that I’m a little miffed at him right now, and I just want to have a cool little code name on the page.
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