Yesterday, my friend and I went out into the night with the intention of finding alcohol that does not cost too much and does not taste too much like alcohol. We were supposed to have gone out on Friday, when the darkness would have been swimming with orange lights and random beats and people in twos and threes searching, but unfortunately, we both appear young enough to make an ID check necessary and someone (re: me, I, unfortunate) neglected to bring something to prove that I have breathed for at least nineteen years.
I thought she was going to brain me with my own stiletto, but she was pacified with the promise of carousing on Sunday instead.
(I like the word 'carousing' because it sounds so much better than, if not as honest as,'getting shit-faced drunk')
One of the things I like best about going out is preparing for it. I like making my eyelids shine like the scales of a dragon, or like some glowing, enchanted jasmine; I like putting rose on my cheeks and the dream of a kiss on my mouth and I love, love dressing up. Pretty skirts, pretty blouses, looking into the mirror and liking what you see and then not looking again for fear that your hair will be too messy and your face will be too round again; your lips too big, your eyes too scared.
The drinks were sweet and cold and went down like snow melting - I don't care if ordering mixed drinks is 'girly' or weak because straight alcohol tastes like nail polish remover and if I'm spending money, then I had better enjoy getting drunk as well as being drunk. As it was, we stopped at 'enjoyably tipsy' and were able to walk in a straight line home! I love going out at night because it's so private and lonely and you can hear the uncanny rumbling of unseen waterfalls like the call of Cthulhu. To scare him away, we sang trashy Disney songs and hummed when we couldn't remember the words.
It was thoroughly delightful, and I did not wake up with a headache. I'm still trying to get used to the feeling of not having to be scared of exams and essays. I feel like a balloon let out on holiday!
Soon, I'll be able to write letters again, which I'm very much looking forward to! I am beginning to remember what it's like to want to write and write and write more - if anyone would like to receive letters, please tell me so!
It's such a summery afternoon, I feel like I'm being washed into a faded, 70s polaroid.
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