8:36 a.m. - 2003-11-24
with diction airy
Another weekend utterly wasted. And here I am in the library, sitting not far from the absurdly attractive Austrailian dorm-mate from days of yore. For being as absurdly hot as he is, he is also quite skittish - each moment finds him ready to bolt. Ahhh, lust.
Ummm...yeah. The weekend was looking promising - Thursday marked my first venture out with the charming Ms. N. and her friend/my fellow nonfictionist. We passed a lovely handful of hours, venturing from the harrowed halls of academia to the more intimate surroundings of the Hobnob. I had an excellent time! Brief Note to Ms. N: I hope we run into one another before T-Day claims me utterly...how is your week looking?
All I have been doing is getting faced, which is BAD since the haunting siren of responsibility cries my name. It's lost to the winter wind, baby. Save your fucking breath. Except for...I sort of swore to myself that I would be stress-free over T-Day weekend, so I've got two days to pull everything together.
Speaking fo T-Day! The crowd keeps on getting larger and larger at my house. Mother will just die from the excitement! Er, literal death not implied, I was harkening back to the '50s, but whatever. Nick, Aaron, Cory from work?, kid brother, kb's friend(s?) and the parents. And perhaps my lovely friends Travis and Minnie, AKA "The Mateers."
I had an utterly bizarre dream post-mushrooms on...my GOD, was it Saturday. Yikes. I just insist on taking things to the limit. Anyway, I dreamt my mom was sort of a Zardoz-y version of Charlotte Rampling crossed with herself. We lived in this strange distopia where for whatever reason I had to be locked in my chamber/room/study/cell type place. I was lounging therein, acting ever the brattish royal, watching some weird, sword-wielding brand of porn when my mom comes in and asks if this is what I do with my free days. Oddly, I was not totally mortified...closer to miffed, to be perfectly accurate. I stood up and went to my window, which looked over a large atrium. I think I asked her how much longer this would all take, but I don't know what she said and I certainly don't know what that means.
Oooh, backtracking. Earlier in that evening, I went to a manners party hosted by Missoula's own brand of Holly Golightly, a girl from my nonfiction class. It was designed to be an evening of manners-fostering for her dotter, but ended up just being an excuse to wear swank clothes. I accidentally dressed up for it on Friday, then had to disgrace myself by wearing the same thing the next evenings. However, I managed to look really good at Showcase when I saw the hot dancer, so it was all worth it. I wore the blazer from my vintage gray suit, purple A/X shirt, black silk tie, ripped-up gray jeans, red/black/white Chucks and a gray and black scarf. Also met friend's attractive/intriguing neighbor, whom I will immediately and unapologetically pursue. Post-haste.
Anyway. It was a nice weekend in that I got to spend loads of time with my friends, discussing a good deal of my inventions, including (but not limited to): The Taberknuckles (Mormon punk band/sports team), "With diction airy, she said, 'There are no words for you,'" and other events featuring the Language Disease Culture Club. Huzzah! I have managed to waste nearly all my pre-seminar time. I shall now dismiss myself.
