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the colours in your head


I should be reading Chekhov

but I just carried a futon frame up four flights of stairs with the aid of a small Turkish man, so I think I deserve a break from all the body/mind exertion thing and so random internet surfing is happening. Huzzah.

Being back is proving to be fun. Last night was a round of parties, which ended up being vaguely weird because I found out that I'm not so hugely into drinking anymore, and bobbing around to hiphop doesn't really do it for me anymore, either. If there's a cute boy there, booty shaking shall be had with reckless abandon, but I feel vaguely ludicrous with a group of girls, and I like actually dancing to a faster beat. Seeing Lori dance in Russia made me realise that taken out of context, American girls tend to look like strippers. Apparently, as we discovered last night, tiny Bulgarian girls wearing little-to-no clothing up on blocks flinging their hair about as they grind two guys and get filmed by yet another guy look even more like strippers. Lovely. I told the Canadian about how I was feeling old and partied out, and he pointed out that a.) he's 30 and therefore I am just a spring chicken, and b.) I'm supposed to be drinking for him while he does his body detox thing, so I suppose I shall have to rally to the cause.

Anya was back in town for a while, so we went out to dessert at Finale's with Inna, Liza, Misha and Ivana. There was much giggling. Olga swanned in at the end of the meal, gorgeous as ever in a wafty white dress and black over the knee flat boots, hair down past her waist. Seeing Anya was truly bizarre... Milan was a perfect capsule period, and then seeing her for just one night, in such a group situation and knowing she was going to leave was weird. Same group of people, but with slightly shifted dynamics. I think it bordered a little on hysteria at times, but it was amazing seeing her.

Anyway, I have just glanced over and seen that it is five, and Cindy Chang from Exeter rolls into town tonight, so I must Chekhov/math/Russian before she gets here. I have to go bowling with her and an unpleasant group of people we knew back in high school. She likes them, and she is lovely, though, so I shall have to endure them. And bowling is always fun.


At 12:08 AM, September 26, 2005, Anonymous JP said...

Now, now, there's nothing wrong with being old! It is edifying. I've been practicing it for years, with remarkable success. Since I was seven, to be more exact. Though, I suppose, I wasn't much of a party creature before that, either. I recall insisting that all guests at my sixth birthday-party should be dispatched home by 10. I also recall the decision involving a calculation of the relationship between the length of the guests' stay and the amount of leftover cake... One has to have one's priorities worked out!


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