Saturday, September 22, 2012

why don't we

This is Taylor. Life is currently surreal. Oddly, my head feels too big for my neck, like an anvil balancing on a pencil. Maybe that's not so odd, considering the ungodly hour of Anna's last post. Candlelight can give a person a false sense of security. But the thing is, we all want to let it.

We just got up a few minutes ago and it's already noon. The day feels fast and slow at the same time. Fast, because we've already missed a lot of it, but slow because it seems like time is dragging its feet to compensate. That is what a Saturday should be like occasionally. It's a form of forgiveness. Even though I have been staying here for less than a day, I feel very much at home. I think it's because this refrigerator has most of the same things that mine does, like kefir and hummus and illegal animal products. Right now I'm feeling a little dangerous because this milk I'm drinking is intended only for use in feeding orphaned animals. Fight the power.

I'm mostly unsure of what today will hold, which is pretty much the story of my life. Tonight we've planned a dinner party and we'll be making food for that. But I'm not sure what we'll be doing in between. We may go to Starbucks because I hear that's where the young, cool kids hang out.    

At Starbucks, we chowed down on paninis that were supposed to be hot but weren't because the cashier tried to pull one over on us with some lame excuse about how the oven was broken. Please. Then we sat next to this classy lad with desert boots and didn't talk to him but snuck glances at his footwear when he wasn't looking. The rest of our afternoon was occupied in preparing delicacies for our Kinfolk-inspired dinner party. [i wont say anymore about that, since you're blogging about that.] We and our guests failed at playing charades, and wrote beautiful sentences and listened to bad music and listened to good music. [you didnt add in "and redeemed ourselves..."] And redeemed ourselves by listening to good music. We cleaned the entire abode of the Hawthornes' [-no dont write that-] We cleaned the entire house. And then we watched a movie. We watched this film called "The Brothers Bloom".  It's about two brothers who own a florist's shop in Greece. Then they move to New York to model for Calvin Klein.

It's been a good vacation. [What else should I say? I'll scratch your back. You're like a toad. I dont know if I wanna say that to the world though. Stop. I'm talking to YOU. Ohhh...I'm scared to speak. This is so loserly right now.]

This brief, um, intermission? It's by Anna. [This makes me sound like myself and stupid... *Cough* Um, okay. Eee.] Last night, me and Taylor agreed on something. So I extended my hand to shake hers. [Do I really talk in fragments like this?] And she made a fake spitting motion into her hand, and so I did too. And then we laughed and looked at each other and shook hands. And then I said, "my hand is wet." Then Taylor said, "Oh. I really didn't spit on my hand... I did." And then I said, "Eeeewwww...Oh, I did too." So the moral of the story is: we accidentally actually spit/shook. Then I washed my hand with bleach. Oh. Um. Thank you, and goodnight.

Enough said.

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only the shallow know themselves. -oscar wilde