Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt.
I'm sorry. I don't have a lot to write. As I said in the comments in my last post, Tuesday so far as been the only afternoon/night of sobriety since the 23rd of May. All I have to write about now is drinking, which just paints me as a massive alcoholic. But it's not like I have anything else to do, or any real responsibilites right now.
And anyways, don't those mojitos look good? However, they are the mojitos of DEATH. Have three or so of them, and this is what happens:
That is a "D", for D-runk. We got so drunk that Tweedle started writing "D"s on every surface she could find. It was hysterical. That arrow is so that we can hold the napkin above our heads because we were all D-runk. That is a capital "D", by the way. Not a small "d". I don't remember much from that night, but I do remember totally weaving as I walked back home, because I decided that in my smart drunken state, that I'd walk the mile-or-so it was home at 1:30am, instead of taking a cab because it was a nice night. And, as logical as I always am, I was on the phone the whole time. You know, so if someone tries to attack me, the person on the other end will know something's up.
And when we're not drinking, we're trying to soak up sun (that is, aside from when it's cloudy and I decide that I need to go to work. I love part-time work).
Wouldn't it be nice if those were the duckies (fine, goslings, although goslings really doesn't sound as cute) that we took pictures of last week?
And really, that's all that's been going on in my life, during this dead zone after-papers but before-graduation. This also might be my life for the rest of the summer, but we'll see. Hopefully I'll scare up some excitement.