Party

So, its late and I am reading this excellent interview that Chloe Sevigny did with the Proenza Schouler guys. (The Interview Magazine’s interviews rock – I mean, duh.) I’ve just finished writing something and I thought I need a treat before I hit the sack. Apparently, reading an interview of the Proenza Schouler guys is a treat. Its a total geek fest. I love it.

In other news, there is a lizard living in my kitchen cupboard. Every time I want something from there, I have to pound on the door a few times to give the reptile some time to get away. We have an understanding. That’s good, at least.

Also, I have been freaking out about my birthday for the last couple of days. I hate logistics. Actually, right now, I think I hate birthdays too. They never turn out quite right and generally can be a real bitch. There, I’ve said it, birthdays are bitches.

Which kind of remind me of Mrs Dalloway’s party. And hers was a lot more smooth-sailing if I recall correctly. Yet, she still killed herself. Oh god, such a morbid thing to think about three days before my birthday. NOBODY IS KILLNG ANYBODY. Just saying, double-confirming (isn’t this the catch-phrase these days?).

I think everything should be fine. I just need to stop bouncing off the walls for one moment to put things into perspective. Now, if we don’t put things into perspective, where else shall we place them?

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