6:40 p.m. - 2004-03-21
we can go for the weekend
This weekend has been nothing to shake a stick at. Not even a twig, really. Today has been a slightly more restful day (though I barely slept last night) compared to the weekend thus far. Friday was good, except for the early half of the day, in which I slept through my Shakespeare class, put myself in jeopardy of flunking. It was warranted, since I had to work and thus greet the dawn writing the fucking paper that was due...I think I crashed sometime after seven. Ah, yes. That did suck. But the night was all Cutbank, which is the school's lit. journal, which had itself a little fundraising soiree. Wore the best outfit ever ('40s playboy hair, crazy tux-ruffled black shirt, black silk tie, jeans, badass blue pinstripe jacket, Chucks), partied it up at the fundraiser with Ms. N, Elizzard, Megan and E's visiting chum, Janessa. Rubbed elbows with random literati peeps. Got high with my workshop substitute, whom I love to tiny pieces. Also drunkenly picked the brain of my real workshop prof, who is maybe the greatest. Ever.
Afterward, we went to a famous alcoholics theme party, where I couldn't decide who to be...vacillated between Richard Burton, Montgomery Clift, eventually decided on Frank since I had the pinstripes and the slicked-back thing. It was a good idea, but not the best party. They tried, but theme parties are inevitably lame, as we learned (again) tomorrow.
Met my dream man's out-of-town girlfriend, who was fucking awesome. I always describe said dream man as somoene whose yard I would camp out in until our love was realized, if he was gay and slightly taller. Because his perfection would be alarming, under those circumstances. Phew. Went to a glam rock party, which sort of floundered. I wasn't drunk enough, I watched one of my hated ex-friends snap photos of the assembled guests like, most of whom were pretty dullish.
Anyway, I've run out of time: tonite, it's GOT to be the Pedro the Lion show for me. Not before I hit me a dindin at friends' house. word
