What. Let’s hope this isn’t permanent.
Sweating out all the alc in my system.
Rocking high heels (ahem, “stilettos” according to my shocked friend).
Becoming friends with way too many cool kids.
The strobe lights flashing so quickly it looked like we were characters photographed in a flipbook, our movements frozen every few seconds. So trippy.
Oh my god half marathon training.
31 days no sugar (sort of).
Blasting Macklemore and unpacking.
Finally getting to set up wireless internet holla.
p.s. Tumblr ate my post. reposting late.
Walked around my gorgeous apartment with Macklemore rapping in my ears and it was a little eerie. Maybe because it was empty, maybe because it’s strange to think we’re moving up to this “level,” so to speak. So excited though, and so pumped to move in.
Boy, have I mentioned how much you make my life?
Reported at the beach. Lost any remaining inhibitions about laying out on the beach in undies. Sand everywhere. Explored a huge flea market. Wanted a “Speed Limit 35” sign (still do). Pored over used books and vinyls in a seriously cool bookstore. Welcomed the musty, comfortingly familiar smell of old books and the sight of dogeared pages and autographed copies. Ran around Santa Monica and ate too much delicious food. Baby fireworks. You standing around the corner. Dance party with favorite obscure songs. Dark kitchen countertops. Pit stop at ML’s. Two numbers, neither of which I have. Conversations I’m going to save and remember. Smiles.
Such a good weekend.