1.22.2005
Saturday morning
All my good vibrations about Wednesday night had no staying power over the week and I'm doing an ass job settling into Boston and not mope-ing. Worse still, my sassypants won't come off, and i just end up being a major bitch to everyone (without even trying).
sanni and i did join the gym for classes, and i was all set to do cardio kickboxing, but instead I'm going to wash my sheets and mop my room. i made coffee and I've read the Times, so that means it's time for Saturday to get moving.
last night sanni and i got dinner and drinks after we mitten-shopped with limited success. i almost bought a black jacket with a ruffle running full circle around the lapel. But the ruffle stood straight up and reminded me of a clown collar...so i passed. when i say dinner and drinks i meant we split an appetizer and cheesecake and overdrank.
i love sanni, so much. If for no other reason than yesterday she told a story, the punchline of which was, "i ate a pedophile's cheesecake." which i hastily scribbled drunkstyle on a receipt. Brilliant. She also doesn't read this. Which means i can control for her perception of me. (that's a goddamn lie, sanni is standing too close for pretending.)
that's the funny thing about le blog, le online diary. what the ass? if you told me that i wanted to have a public diary i would have balked. but when i make my own under the guise of self indulgence, i just can't stop.
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sanni and i did join the gym for classes, and i was all set to do cardio kickboxing, but instead I'm going to wash my sheets and mop my room. i made coffee and I've read the Times, so that means it's time for Saturday to get moving.
last night sanni and i got dinner and drinks after we mitten-shopped with limited success. i almost bought a black jacket with a ruffle running full circle around the lapel. But the ruffle stood straight up and reminded me of a clown collar...so i passed. when i say dinner and drinks i meant we split an appetizer and cheesecake and overdrank.
i love sanni, so much. If for no other reason than yesterday she told a story, the punchline of which was, "i ate a pedophile's cheesecake." which i hastily scribbled drunkstyle on a receipt. Brilliant. She also doesn't read this. Which means i can control for her perception of me. (that's a goddamn lie, sanni is standing too close for pretending.)
that's the funny thing about le blog, le online diary. what the ass? if you told me that i wanted to have a public diary i would have balked. but when i make my own under the guise of self indulgence, i just can't stop.
Post a Comment