And neither will my shockingly bad attempt at French.
Also apologies for my miniature post today. I have just written an essay we were given three weeks ago in about 2 hours, so I can go out for coffee tonight and still make tomorrows deadline. Needless to say, I am one brain-fucked chicken.
School is back, and in some ways it's like I never had a holiday. The workload is already killing me (although I take the easiest courses available in college... go figure); and so are the multiple cigarettes I get plied with every day. Sometimes I get a little depressed when I think of the sheer numbers of friends I had last year (almost all of whom left after completing their final year); but then I realise that I'm just grateful I'm not out there working my ass off full time.
But don't worry ma petites, I'm still the crazy adventuring Dora-the-Explorer-cum-Party-Girl I once was. Except my partying these days is restricted to (free) dinners (courtesy of Buffest's connections in the resteraunt and dining world); and private hotel room parties (if you catch my drift). Let's just say on the subject of my latest encounter with Sparky; the most I wore was a hotel room sheet as I took a drag of a nightime cigarette on a dark balcony - and the sex was literally bed-movingly good (like a-metre-on-carpet movingly-good). Best of all, it was all paid for by him, it was about 30 seconds drive from work the next day, and I didn't even have to make a bed or sneak out in the morning.
Life is fucking beautiful sometimes.
Hopefully there will be a gathering or two on this weekend so I can endulge in a little of my old party-hearty ways; and make some new memories to share with you all.
For now,
But definitley not forever.
xx
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