You! Me! Dancing!
Last night I learned that if enough people are willing to look as fucking silly as me, I will go out on to a dance floor (sober, even!) and muck about for several hours at a stretch. I did not set out to bust moves or even cut rugs, but damn if it didn't happen anyway. I got back to the house with the chill in the bones that comes from having sweat so much that you might as well have jumped into the sea, wandered around in it for a bit, and walked ashore like some 1950s movie monster (you know what I missed, though? Having long hair). It actually got me the first solid sleep I've had in three days, although I was roused by both the ravages of whatever Welsh disease it is I've got and the noise of everyone else in the university moving in today.
Still I managed to feel more or less like a member of the human race with a shower and a cup of tea with Neil, who is a dude that lives upstairs (from a previous post where I mentioned meeting a dude and not remembering his name, it was Neil) and is a solid fellow who climbs mountains for fun.
I just realized that I am fucking ravenous but I don't want to spend money, so I guess it is time to chow down on some motherfucking HobNobs like there is no tomorrow. Fucking brilliant.
Still I managed to feel more or less like a member of the human race with a shower and a cup of tea with Neil, who is a dude that lives upstairs (from a previous post where I mentioned meeting a dude and not remembering his name, it was Neil) and is a solid fellow who climbs mountains for fun.
I just realized that I am fucking ravenous but I don't want to spend money, so I guess it is time to chow down on some motherfucking HobNobs like there is no tomorrow. Fucking brilliant.