ryan's birthday and another backyard shindig last night. ice cold beers and rolled cigarettes and a bunch of mindless chattering. where does he meet these people? insecure girls trying not to make faces as they sip their beer, giggling and flirting and perching on things. insecure chicks like that are always just perching - minding their aesthetic, ready to flee at the first sign that they're undesirable.
talking to luci about recording vocals on her next album, scary. I haven't ever sung professionally, just some dive bar drunken karaoke. andy and cathy jo and dex telling me I'll be a star someday in their silly redneck drawls.
the wannabe gangsters and their vodka slamming high school girlfriends were getting more irritating by the second and it was time to find a less claustrophobic place to look at the stars. beers in hand we traipsed to the baseball field where we kicked off our shoes and laid in a criscrossed mess in the grass.
a ufo, luci was sure and she grabbed my hand, trying to make me see. the world was just a blur by then, spinning noticeably under me. I clutched handfuls of grass like they could help me stay on the surface if it sped up too much and we didn't even notice there was no moon. like a scene from a movie I would never watch on purpose the sprinklers came on just as we were getting to the meat of our drunken philosophizing, drenching us all as we shrieked and dived for our shoes and sweatshirts. the heat - oppressive even at almost midnight - dried our clothes and hair as we walked barefoot through the deserted streets, laughing, flaunting our open containers in the faces of anyone who would oppose us.
no one did.
back in the yard I was bold enough to sit myself next to jason for the first time all night and I watched him from the corner of my eye for a long time, blushing but not really minding whenever he caught me. savoring the butterflies.
you know you're kind of falling for someone when you can honestly say that you think their fingernails are beautiful.
talking to luci about recording vocals on her next album, scary. I haven't ever sung professionally, just some dive bar drunken karaoke. andy and cathy jo and dex telling me I'll be a star someday in their silly redneck drawls.
the wannabe gangsters and their vodka slamming high school girlfriends were getting more irritating by the second and it was time to find a less claustrophobic place to look at the stars. beers in hand we traipsed to the baseball field where we kicked off our shoes and laid in a criscrossed mess in the grass.
a ufo, luci was sure and she grabbed my hand, trying to make me see. the world was just a blur by then, spinning noticeably under me. I clutched handfuls of grass like they could help me stay on the surface if it sped up too much and we didn't even notice there was no moon. like a scene from a movie I would never watch on purpose the sprinklers came on just as we were getting to the meat of our drunken philosophizing, drenching us all as we shrieked and dived for our shoes and sweatshirts. the heat - oppressive even at almost midnight - dried our clothes and hair as we walked barefoot through the deserted streets, laughing, flaunting our open containers in the faces of anyone who would oppose us.
no one did.
back in the yard I was bold enough to sit myself next to jason for the first time all night and I watched him from the corner of my eye for a long time, blushing but not really minding whenever he caught me. savoring the butterflies.
you know you're kind of falling for someone when you can honestly say that you think their fingernails are beautiful.
