Must be getting old.
Oh dear. Lately, I think about posting, and it just seems like the biggest hassle.
What would I say? Take last weekend. I predicted a few things. Did they come true? No, not really. I didn't go to the Deja Voodoo gig. Why not? Because I was raucously drunk at the AUT quad, just like a dirty eighteen year old, "let's get down"-ing with the Black Seeds. Did I go to Tabac to see Punches on Saturday? No, I didn't, instead I hosted an almost-grown-up dinner party (apart from that it was pot luck) withfour five of my oldest school-friends, besides suffering from a pretty dire bout of post-alcohol anxiety.
What is becoming of me.
Then this evening. After stuffing myself on Thai goodness at Sawadee along with the goodness of good friends, then making a token effort to check out the Tutts and (two songs of) the Sneaks at Vesbar (fucks sake that's two nights at the AUT quad in less than a week) there's no way I can be assed sticking around town and rolling on into overdraft for the sake of extending the party, notwithstanding that it's some rocker's birthday celebrations at a night-spot reserved only for late night shenanigans.
Then there's my geekness regarding 'Lost' of late, but once I exhausted the resources of season 2 episodes available to me momentum died away ... that's a lie. Last night I sat up well past bed-time, totally engrossed in this and this ... I even got pretty interested in this, about story elements (particularly the literary references) oh and somehow found my way to this fairly gruesome story, explaining why lighthouse crews always have three people.
I have been thinking about growing old lately. I suppose it is once more around the block in just seven or so weeks.
What? Am I hinting? Noooo, not me. Not at all.
What would I say? Take last weekend. I predicted a few things. Did they come true? No, not really. I didn't go to the Deja Voodoo gig. Why not? Because I was raucously drunk at the AUT quad, just like a dirty eighteen year old, "let's get down"-ing with the Black Seeds. Did I go to Tabac to see Punches on Saturday? No, I didn't, instead I hosted an almost-grown-up dinner party (apart from that it was pot luck) with
What is becoming of me.
Then this evening. After stuffing myself on Thai goodness at Sawadee along with the goodness of good friends, then making a token effort to check out the Tutts and (two songs of) the Sneaks at Vesbar (fucks sake that's two nights at the AUT quad in less than a week) there's no way I can be assed sticking around town and rolling on into overdraft for the sake of extending the party, notwithstanding that it's some rocker's birthday celebrations at a night-spot reserved only for late night shenanigans.
Then there's my geekness regarding 'Lost' of late, but once I exhausted the resources of season 2 episodes available to me momentum died away ... that's a lie. Last night I sat up well past bed-time, totally engrossed in this and this ... I even got pretty interested in this, about story elements (particularly the literary references) oh and somehow found my way to this fairly gruesome story, explaining why lighthouse crews always have three people.
I have been thinking about growing old lately. I suppose it is once more around the block in just seven or so weeks.
What? Am I hinting? Noooo, not me. Not at all.
posted by Jessie at 10:41
3 comments
3 Comments:
Chin up darling, you'll always be a decade younger than moi! x
Old!!! How is that happening so early to you? I've just been asked if I am mature, and the only answer I could arrive at was "sometimes".
I'm thinking I am going to have to seriously sit down and watch Lost - particularly now that I know the book I am studying for my honours dissertation is one of the books talked about in the context of Lost.
You raise an interesting point Barry. Complaining that I am getting old would tend to suggest that I am a grown-up... but that doesn't seem right!
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