some truths and a lie
yesterday was a good day. i made a cake for (m)ein sehr wunderbares Freunds Geburtstag which turned out not terribly, spent some quality time with the above whom, and then went to the grad club where i was silent as the tomb while others talked but was yet very happy. i hope other people don't feel awkward when i don't talk - i sometimes worry about this. but i usually really like to listen. also, i think i've finally learned (the hard way, i'll admit) that when drunk i should, come hell or high water, say and do NOTHING.
conversation: a fragment
lee: if i fail in life and don't end up joining the farc*, i want to become a woofer**.
ian: i have no idea what you just said.
*FARC = Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia
**woofer = Worker On Organic Farms
today (sith it's been so hot) i decided to wear a skirt. then i learned (again, the hard way) why people don't wear skirts and bike to work. first thing in the morning, as i got on mein Fahrrad, i couldn't quite swing my leg over the seat, and crashed (before having even mounted the damn thing) in a pile on my driveway. managed to get to work, worked, and then when i left the market to bike home, obviously having forgotten about my previous difficulties, i tried to mount it guy-fashion again (that sounds so wrong), failed, and crashed in a pile in the market square. shouted the random guy who was wheeling a keg down the street: "looks like you're having a bad day too!"
then i went home and cried. (that's the lie - hopefully it will stay one!)
life is really fucking awesome.
conversation: a fragment
lee: if i fail in life and don't end up joining the farc*, i want to become a woofer**.
ian: i have no idea what you just said.
*FARC = Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia
**woofer = Worker On Organic Farms
today (sith it's been so hot) i decided to wear a skirt. then i learned (again, the hard way) why people don't wear skirts and bike to work. first thing in the morning, as i got on mein Fahrrad, i couldn't quite swing my leg over the seat, and crashed (before having even mounted the damn thing) in a pile on my driveway. managed to get to work, worked, and then when i left the market to bike home, obviously having forgotten about my previous difficulties, i tried to mount it guy-fashion again (that sounds so wrong), failed, and crashed in a pile in the market square. shouted the random guy who was wheeling a keg down the street: "looks like you're having a bad day too!"
then i went home and cried. (that's the lie - hopefully it will stay one!)
life is really fucking awesome.