03:39 - Sunday, Sept. 28, 2003 the smell of red wine and the feel of bare skin
Life is SWEEEEEEEEET.
Normally I would refrain from typing such comments but on a night like this it is unavoidable. Listen: I am drunk. I never get drunk because... I don't like to. but I think I may have to change my mind for special occasions. Special occasions that involve apple pie shots and chicken fighting in the pool at 3 AM, climbing over the fence drop straight into the hot tub... ahhhh. Tyler picked me up from Wild Oats with a stereo balanced precariously in the backseat blasting Ben Harper live, which he was taping... and later the same stereo playing the taped tape sat by the side of the hot tub filled with people drinking red wine sliding the glass across the surface of the water, letting it float itself right on over to whoever it wanted to go to. I think 10 of us fit in this tiny hot tub, everyone looking like Droopy personified, but less stoned and more dreamy, more blissful. We ran over there in the freezing cold grass, the frost gets stuck between my toes, this 30 degree night, and got lost in the wild turns of the apartment complex, wearing towels, shivering, chattering. My feet felt, alternately, like burning, like prickling, like numb.. like nothing at all. For the first time in my life I got be on the top end of a chicken fight. All my life I was bigger than everyone my age so I had to be the bottom of the chicken fight, but this time we were doing it by gender and I got to be on the top, and Scott and I were undefeated champions of chickenfighting. When he dislocated his shoulder against the side of the pool, his arm looked like it was in two pieces until we ran over and asked Dank, who knows everything, what to do, and he ran into him with palms outstretched, twice, hard, and the shoulder popped back. On my way back over the fence I slipped off a deck chair twice and hit my right knee hard enough that I'm limping.
Really all it was was the steam rising thick off the water surface and off everyone's faces and hair and hands and curling away into the night sky, and the smell of red wine, and the feel of bare skin.
20:19 - Saturday, Sept. 27, 2003 college dilemma
ok, typical college dilemma here: there is a party. i want to go to it. it is really far away, but accessible by taking two buses. it is technically a slumber party, but i have no interest in trying to sleep surrounded by shrieking and thumping and puking, such as what happened at the same party last year (scroll all the way to the bottom). also, the buses only run until 11:30, so i can get there, but i can't get back. everyone who has cars will be too drunk to drive me anywhere. i can't get ahold of lara to ask her when she's leaving wherever she is if there were a chance she could give me a ride.
i am stuck in a corner. i could just stay here and write my religion paper, but....
argh.
01:36 - Saturday, Sept. 27, 2003 so stupid
sitting in a living room realizing girl-comraderie... because it's more than standing in solidarity. there is nothing to stand against, but there is something to stand for.
my contact lens case got lost in the fray, or probably the shag carpet. i don't know what to do... fill the tops of some pill bottles with lens solution, maybe, and then cover the tops with sheets of saran wrap. man, that's so stupid.
17:47 - Thursday, Sept. 25, 2003 rather strange
My ethics book is the best book ever: I get to read case study after case study involving such controversial subjects as abortion, euthanasia, and pornography and then diagram the arguments in chronological order!! YAY!!! I'm totally not even kidding.
It was rather strange yesterday. I'm walking out of my apartment building, mouth full o' NutriGrain, ready to catch the 7:45 bus to English when I hear: 'HANNAH!' from right behind me. My creative writing teacher ended up giving me a ride to school, and when we got there, our classroom was locked and it was so early that the English department wasn't even open yet. This was the day we were meant to be writing sex scenes in class, and the whole class ended up in the tiny faculty lounge, crammed together on couches and loveseats, with mild pink lamplight, writing sex scenes uncomfortably with one hand cupped around our notebook so no-one could see. And no, I'm not posting my own sex scene. :P
23:24 - Tuesday, Sept. 23, 2003 things that should go on the wall
1. i walk into the airport. i have a pipe with resin in it. i want to get it on the plane. so when i get in front of the security checkpoint and get searched, i pull out a bottle of vodka from my purse and douse the pipe with it.
2. not being surrounded with cops all the time is a right.
what?
it's not a privilege, it's a RIGHT.
i can't comprehend anything.
3. top gun = star trek
4. this is a shit coloured bottlecap.
eat it right now.
i'm scared, i don't know what flavour it is and it's shit coloured.
come on, eat it. now.
no, see i can make things taste like things they don't taste like right now, and if it's shit coloured my mind will make it taste like shit and then i'll puke.
noooooo.
5. if i were louie i would write the world 'cliche' somewhere...
6. i'm detecting big negative vibes right here in between us.
no, the only vibes you're getting from me is the vibe about how my eyelids feel much better closed than open.
7. ruins of the livingroom: empty package of halloween mixer willy wonka candy, two empty cartons of raspberry chocolate ice cream, my exploded body.
8. what would happen if i called nick up at 11:30 p.m. on a tuesday night and said, 'go to wild oats and get me some bananas, bitch!'
9. p = tongue
10. i thought it would be terrific fun to call mike in georgia where it is two in the morning and scream about the mountain sky and how the ocean is the same as the air in terms of movie panning.
11. now i'm just typing random thoughts.
12. THE FIRE ALARM WENT OFF IN MY CLASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
22:47 - Sunday, Sept. 21, 2003 interspersed with
So much and so little has happened in the past few days that it's all gone in a whirlwind whenever I try to think about it. It's all interspersed with fever, so keep that in mind. But my whole Saturday begins with this:
�I just... the hardest part about leaving would be doing it alone,� he says.
There is silence in the back of the bus because I�m deciding whether to say it and mean it, mean it through and through.
�If you were to actually do it,� I finally say, slowly, deliberately, �I would go with you.�
His face is like a lamp at dusk; suddenly lit. �Would you?�
�I...�
�Would you really?�
My eyes are tearing up.
�Let�s do it, then,� he whispers.
..... and ends with this:
�I know. I know. All I�m saying is... every summer the plans fell through because of her. Every summer I was totally ready.�
�I...�
�What I�m saying is this: if this falls through, it will not be because of me.�
�It won�t?�
�No.�
�So what you�re saying is it�ll be because of me.�
�Yes.�
He crunches a few leaves in his path. �Sweet,� he says, after a length.
