:: Saturday, March 20, 2004 ::

So the essay is in. 4:30pm exactly, no cover page, 400 words short and shamlessly printed in larger font than times new roman 12pt. Frankly though, I'm actually sort of proud of it. I had a lot of fun writing it (as far as writing a paper can be "fun").

Then came the crash. I could have refused to rise from my nap at 8pm, and slept through the night. But I dragged myself up for martinis and visa debt and dancing and laughter and a paper napkin rose from a stranger. Smoking up outside Tinseltown and funny hand drawings and being amusingly gestured at by a wee gangsta whom we affectionately nicknamed "l'il reg" and decided was liz's boyfriend. Riding the N17 looking like a zombie with liquid eyeliner running down my face and smelling like cigarettes from a bar for the first time in forever (i thought that was illigal now?) and still just drunk enough to not care.

I have to be up in under 5 hours.

Oh well. After a night of dancing to Stevie Wonder, nothing can be wrong with the world.


~song~ Stevie Wonder - Superstition

:: Katy 3:27 a.m. [+] :: ::