here's to spontaneity
facebook gives us less reasons to use our journals here, because when a picture apparently is capable of saying a thousand words, it does the job alone... but that's not true. i wanted to share a valuable lesson i learned last night, but word-less photos didn't quite get the message across. here's what i couldn't say on facebook:
i couldn't say that i didn't know if i had to be twenty-one to get in temple club, one of the few clubs open on sundays, but i didn't care. a night doesn't have to revolve around that minor detail. cody asked me if it felt weird going out on a sunday night, and i said that when you're on a winter break from college, everyday is saturday. and honestly, last night couldn't have gotten any more saturdayer.
when you're in the mood, what's stopping you? really... what is? i was in the mood. mallory was in the mood. cody had homework to do and a final exam the next morning (at 8 am too), and he barely finished everything by the time i put on my jacket. but he was in the mood. he had to be-- it was his freakin' birthday! we weren't sure how to get home and my heels started hurting early on and we weren't old enough to have access to any place in san francisco, but you know what? we just said, "fuck it." you know why? we were in the mood.
i knocked over the chaser with my purse-- the one we walked blocks for. we only took a sip each, and mallory says she totally saw it coming. it fell in slow motion too. but you know what? yup. fuck it.
there were homeless bums not too far away from us, and the place reeked so bad.. but the lights were pretty, so yeah, we said "fuck it" and took gulps of vodka and followed them with cody's mixed drink that tasted like medicine. fuck it.
here's to making it happen. here's to spontaneity and nights like these. here's to fucking it more often.
because of this stupid meter and the angry taxi driver who probably had nightmares about us three, i am now a broke girl, but..... this one's gonna be hard to say..... fuck it.
and you know what? we drank at the randomest places ever. i trusted more than one stranger to take a picture of us and not to run off with my blackberry in the middle of the night. i peed carelessly and cody called it art. mallory and i sang and laughed hysterically at how cody did it. we miraculously got in a club we stumbled upon. i met a vampire and he bit me. we freaked out when we realized we missed the last train... well, ok, we didn't. we burst out laughing instead. and i woke up with a mild hangover and couldn't leave bed without exploding in a fit of mad giggles just thinking of how random and wtfable and just plain hysterical our night was.
all because we said "fuck it."
i couldn't say that i didn't know if i had to be twenty-one to get in temple club, one of the few clubs open on sundays, but i didn't care. a night doesn't have to revolve around that minor detail. cody asked me if it felt weird going out on a sunday night, and i said that when you're on a winter break from college, everyday is saturday. and honestly, last night couldn't have gotten any more saturdayer.
when you're in the mood, what's stopping you? really... what is? i was in the mood. mallory was in the mood. cody had homework to do and a final exam the next morning (at 8 am too), and he barely finished everything by the time i put on my jacket. but he was in the mood. he had to be-- it was his freakin' birthday! we weren't sure how to get home and my heels started hurting early on and we weren't old enough to have access to any place in san francisco, but you know what? we just said, "fuck it." you know why? we were in the mood.
i knocked over the chaser with my purse-- the one we walked blocks for. we only took a sip each, and mallory says she totally saw it coming. it fell in slow motion too. but you know what? yup. fuck it.
there were homeless bums not too far away from us, and the place reeked so bad.. but the lights were pretty, so yeah, we said "fuck it" and took gulps of vodka and followed them with cody's mixed drink that tasted like medicine. fuck it.
here's to making it happen. here's to spontaneity and nights like these. here's to fucking it more often.
because of this stupid meter and the angry taxi driver who probably had nightmares about us three, i am now a broke girl, but..... this one's gonna be hard to say..... fuck it.
and you know what? we drank at the randomest places ever. i trusted more than one stranger to take a picture of us and not to run off with my blackberry in the middle of the night. i peed carelessly and cody called it art. mallory and i sang and laughed hysterically at how cody did it. we miraculously got in a club we stumbled upon. i met a vampire and he bit me. we freaked out when we realized we missed the last train... well, ok, we didn't. we burst out laughing instead. and i woke up with a mild hangover and couldn't leave bed without exploding in a fit of mad giggles just thinking of how random and wtfable and just plain hysterical our night was.
all because we said "fuck it."