When you spend a week and some working on a final paper for class, where said week involves a last hurrah of consecutive days spent almost solely in the school library for hours on end, where said hours include all those between like, noon and two a.m., there sure isn’t a whole lot of time left over for blogging.
Still. It’s been a great week, but a great week. When I finally finished my paper and left the libes at 3:20 or so Monday morning, with Low Library lit up against the night, streets black and shiny from the rain just over, speeding down Broadway in a yellow cab, listening to the gorgeousness of Azure Ray—well, that’s a moment. And I got that feeling in my throat—y’know, when things are so goddamn good that you can’t stop smiling; so good that you keep thinking, How come I got lucky?—that feeling. Then when I got home I found that Papa had phoned, and Ren, and CC, and Mowmy, and, jeez, I just felt so bloody loved. Is this blog sinking in sentimentality yet? Sometimes you just gotta give in.
Neways, some highlights from the past week include:
• Recognizing fellow library late-owls after a couple of days, including the two guys who log in to Yahoo! chess every night around two a.m. and challenge each other to a game. I sat next to them one night checking my e-mail, and the guy next to me turned to me and said, “No one can beat me!!!”
• Ditching the libes Saturday night to go to Maud’s uptown. The regulars were in effect—Tom, Vio, George, Jill; the irregulars were in effect—this Korean/French dude Sam (“Call me Sam, it’s easier.”) who every now and again in conversation paused to reflect on his mightiness (“I am mighty!” “. . .but I must remain humble!”). Altogether lots of lolling about and coziness, and no thinking about schoolwork.
• This.
• The Mediterranean lamb soup at Dizzy’s, especially when accompanied by a portobello mushroom veggie wrap, especially after not having eaten anything all day up till then ’cause I was running on sleep-deprived euphoria.
• Buying a very lovely pair of pink shoes to celebrate the end of the semester—um, OK, not that I needed an excuse or anything. But, OK, so, these shoes: Pink, leather, cut-outs, two-and-a-half-inch heels, so passable for Marc Jacobs. And not only can I walk in them, I can also run in them.
Sometimes you just want to shake it like a Polaroid picture.
Still. It’s been a great week, but a great week. When I finally finished my paper and left the libes at 3:20 or so Monday morning, with Low Library lit up against the night, streets black and shiny from the rain just over, speeding down Broadway in a yellow cab, listening to the gorgeousness of Azure Ray—well, that’s a moment. And I got that feeling in my throat—y’know, when things are so goddamn good that you can’t stop smiling; so good that you keep thinking, How come I got lucky?—that feeling. Then when I got home I found that Papa had phoned, and Ren, and CC, and Mowmy, and, jeez, I just felt so bloody loved. Is this blog sinking in sentimentality yet? Sometimes you just gotta give in.
Neways, some highlights from the past week include:
• Recognizing fellow library late-owls after a couple of days, including the two guys who log in to Yahoo! chess every night around two a.m. and challenge each other to a game. I sat next to them one night checking my e-mail, and the guy next to me turned to me and said, “No one can beat me!!!”
• Ditching the libes Saturday night to go to Maud’s uptown. The regulars were in effect—Tom, Vio, George, Jill; the irregulars were in effect—this Korean/French dude Sam (“Call me Sam, it’s easier.”) who every now and again in conversation paused to reflect on his mightiness (“I am mighty!” “. . .but I must remain humble!”). Altogether lots of lolling about and coziness, and no thinking about schoolwork.
• This.
• The Mediterranean lamb soup at Dizzy’s, especially when accompanied by a portobello mushroom veggie wrap, especially after not having eaten anything all day up till then ’cause I was running on sleep-deprived euphoria.
• Buying a very lovely pair of pink shoes to celebrate the end of the semester—um, OK, not that I needed an excuse or anything. But, OK, so, these shoes: Pink, leather, cut-outs, two-and-a-half-inch heels, so passable for Marc Jacobs. And not only can I walk in them, I can also run in them.
Sometimes you just want to shake it like a Polaroid picture.
posted by stellou at 7:16 AM
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