la nuit, mes yeux t'eclairent
Last night I found myself with my mother in the only place open in Hendersonville, Waffle House. This was shortly after returning from a late evening showing of Memoirs of a Geisha. It wasn't that bad, but I must confess that the most interesting part for me in the whole deal was seeing the preview for Marie Antoinette played before the movie. So much I want to see next year. But anyway, most of my time at Waffle House was spent pretending to pay attention to my mom's anecdotes about our pet cockatoo, Bobo, while catching glances in the corner of my eye from a cute hipster guy a couple of booths over from us. When that got old, I tried to talk to my mom about Sofia Coppola movies, but she somehow managed to manipulate it into a monologue about how my youngest sister Nina is so mean to everyone. Although it came as no surprise, I still wonder how she managed to do that. I really need to work on my attentiveness so I can finally put an end to my mom's tyrannanical domination over the subjects of our conversations. I'm seriously tired of hearing about how much members of my family are so this or that. WTITYB, mom.
So there it is, the summation of the events of December 25th, my totally rad to the max "Christmas."
And today, I think I'm on the threshold of sickness. Or maybe that's just paranoia. But I think there's a much better chance that the slight discomfort in the top of my throat and ears is actually an indication of an impending illness that isn't hypochondria. I'm gonna go chug orange juice in what may now be a futile attempt to avert such crisis. Then I'm going to go shopping, because as much as it kind of bothers me, I've submitted to the conclusion that as long as I'm in Tennessee, there is always going to be a direct relationship between the quality of my wardrobe and my level of boredom.
edit: it was just paranoia
So there it is, the summation of the events of December 25th, my totally rad to the max "Christmas."
And today, I think I'm on the threshold of sickness. Or maybe that's just paranoia. But I think there's a much better chance that the slight discomfort in the top of my throat and ears is actually an indication of an impending illness that isn't hypochondria. I'm gonna go chug orange juice in what may now be a futile attempt to avert such crisis. Then I'm going to go shopping, because as much as it kind of bothers me, I've submitted to the conclusion that as long as I'm in Tennessee, there is always going to be a direct relationship between the quality of my wardrobe and my level of boredom.
edit: it was just paranoia