10:23 a.m. - 2003-11-07
getaway/moment o'clarity
SAINTS BE PRAISED.
I have not finished nearly enough to be charging out of town, but I don't give a flying FUCK. I am officially doddering behind in all my classes and have managed to see disappointment cross the face of each of my professors, to some degree or another. If only I didn't seek validation through the approval of others...
Last night was superb. I took birthday boy Nick out for a few drinks last night, then we joined some other chums for a terribly schmancy dindin at Finn and Porter (local swanky joint). Luckily, it was also the land of unrivaled speciality martinis. There are ones made with Chambord, champagne, various Stolis; many of them entirely too sweet but amazing all the same. It was a marvelous little night and I was so happy to be a part of it, and be among a pack of wonderful people. It was a good sight better than working (thanks to my little design star who said he would work for me) and it was such a relief to just be happy and not have a coronary about school.
So, I have decided this long weekend's second half will be spent playing catchy-up on schoolwork and clean-up on my filthy apartment. I'm pleased to be having a moment of a.m. clarity that affords me the insight to realize...it's just school. Fuck it. I fell behind, yes, but it wasn't like it was caused by serial masturbation or other manifestations of abject slackitude. My professors WILL understand. If I have to explain myself through the language of violence...so be it.
The first half of this weekend will be spent first in Spokane, where I will celebrate...the wanton gimme gimmes of consumeritis. Yay! Thanks in advance to dotter and son-in-law (of the non-Pauly Shore variety) for playing host. Then, it's off to one of the super-cheap Rock Creek Cabins, where I am getting a red a-frame for six people for about $70. Godblessit. We will be celebrating the eclipse and potential end of the world/moment of celestial benevolence.
And the time has come for me to flee the library, move the car, succumb to momentary regret and then thrust Nick and myself across state lines. Whee.
