fact not fiction
This is fact not fiction
for the first time in years...
I was driving home from Charleston tonight listening to Death Cab for Cutie, a Starbucks soy latte buzzing through my veins, keeping my senses awake, reflecting on a great day. I am thrilled. I'll be treading the Chucktown to Lexington track of highway monthly less.. than... a .. year.. from...now. AHHH! I am ready for a fresh new start, beginning a new atmosphere, a blank tabula rasa where preconceived ideas of who I am, what I do on the weekends, and what type of person people perceive me to be are starting points, not stopping points.
Joost made me feel very, very special today. He is so good with people. He'll succeed in studying communications, he listens more than he speaks, but knows how to have a good time, responsibly. Over dinner he discussed his beliefs and delved into sociology, the nature versus nurture argument, the ethics of capital punishment; an hour earlier I was in front of St. Michael's posing for his camera to make an optical illusion of me sandwiching the church between my fists. He told me I have a "beautiful way of expressing myself" and we talked about what we value in people who enter our personal lives, our own flaws and foibles, family issues, future goals, and meeting up while I'll be in Europe this summer.
We strolled King Street for hours. Parking was herendous! We climbed three tiers to the fourth level of the parking garage before we found a suitable spot for tha Stang. I gave him a guided tour of campus, hitting the highlights- the Cistern, Maybank, the new Media Center on Coming Street. We ate fruit flavored gelato and meandered along Market Street, my least favorite district because of tourism, congestion, and overall lack of class. Joost bought a laser cut cube of glass with a palmetto tree etched inside. I found a pair of cubic zicornia bling bling studs to match my prom dress and thinking outside of self, i splurged on a satin tie belt that reminded me of Susanne. I spotted Courtney and Christina on the opposite side of the street. They saw me and waved back. I think it is inevitable for me to not recognize a Lexingtonian. I heard John Legend playing on a parked car's radio and pulled Joost aside, we stood listening until the occupants gave us dirty glances. I had lentil soup at Gaulart and Maliclet. We overheard a conversation about having sex with multiple partners over a single weekend. Reeeeal appetizing. I ate Joost's sweet pickles and mushrooms. He picked up the tab. We walked down Broad, north of Broad, Church Street, and took a small respite along Battery Park. We sat on the benches, ambled along lazily, took pictures of one another, the harbor, the sunset. Jestine's was impenetrable! I suggested eating at Sermet's, so we walked five blocks and ate big. I ordered Herb-roasted tilapia, Joost ordered duck and drank sweet tea. There was a cute moment. An elderly couple beside us was eating their dinner, and short on conversation or attempting to restore a natural flow of dinner speak, the husband says "Looky there, that room goes waaaaaay back." Joost looked at me, I looked at him, and we both smiled. They were looking into a wall-covering mirror near the back of the restaurant.
for the first time in years...
I was driving home from Charleston tonight listening to Death Cab for Cutie, a Starbucks soy latte buzzing through my veins, keeping my senses awake, reflecting on a great day. I am thrilled. I'll be treading the Chucktown to Lexington track of highway monthly less.. than... a .. year.. from...now. AHHH! I am ready for a fresh new start, beginning a new atmosphere, a blank tabula rasa where preconceived ideas of who I am, what I do on the weekends, and what type of person people perceive me to be are starting points, not stopping points.
Joost made me feel very, very special today. He is so good with people. He'll succeed in studying communications, he listens more than he speaks, but knows how to have a good time, responsibly. Over dinner he discussed his beliefs and delved into sociology, the nature versus nurture argument, the ethics of capital punishment; an hour earlier I was in front of St. Michael's posing for his camera to make an optical illusion of me sandwiching the church between my fists. He told me I have a "beautiful way of expressing myself" and we talked about what we value in people who enter our personal lives, our own flaws and foibles, family issues, future goals, and meeting up while I'll be in Europe this summer.
We strolled King Street for hours. Parking was herendous! We climbed three tiers to the fourth level of the parking garage before we found a suitable spot for tha Stang. I gave him a guided tour of campus, hitting the highlights- the Cistern, Maybank, the new Media Center on Coming Street. We ate fruit flavored gelato and meandered along Market Street, my least favorite district because of tourism, congestion, and overall lack of class. Joost bought a laser cut cube of glass with a palmetto tree etched inside. I found a pair of cubic zicornia bling bling studs to match my prom dress and thinking outside of self, i splurged on a satin tie belt that reminded me of Susanne. I spotted Courtney and Christina on the opposite side of the street. They saw me and waved back. I think it is inevitable for me to not recognize a Lexingtonian. I heard John Legend playing on a parked car's radio and pulled Joost aside, we stood listening until the occupants gave us dirty glances. I had lentil soup at Gaulart and Maliclet. We overheard a conversation about having sex with multiple partners over a single weekend. Reeeeal appetizing. I ate Joost's sweet pickles and mushrooms. He picked up the tab. We walked down Broad, north of Broad, Church Street, and took a small respite along Battery Park. We sat on the benches, ambled along lazily, took pictures of one another, the harbor, the sunset. Jestine's was impenetrable! I suggested eating at Sermet's, so we walked five blocks and ate big. I ordered Herb-roasted tilapia, Joost ordered duck and drank sweet tea. There was a cute moment. An elderly couple beside us was eating their dinner, and short on conversation or attempting to restore a natural flow of dinner speak, the husband says "Looky there, that room goes waaaaaay back." Joost looked at me, I looked at him, and we both smiled. They were looking into a wall-covering mirror near the back of the restaurant.