yo, that's wack if i'm not the baddest


profile * old * mail * fucking sign it* or how about a nice note? you go forward / i'll go backwards


playing pingpong in the basement with bestfriends from a million years ago, smiling about inside jokes and terrible fashion faux pas. i am the hostess and so proper, offering cheez-its from an old plastic butter tub, taking shots and cheating terribly when i can.

i make jeremy attend, just cos. everyone else is nearly married and it makes me cross, simply because they're only three or four years older than me. i am doubtful that anyone will plan on spending eternity with me following them about the house, reading them articles on get rich quick schemes and being a bleedin' lush, for christsake, eh.

chrissy is winning at pingpong when i announce that i'm moving to south dakota. jeremy gives me a look and says 'awfuck' half laughing, half quirky unsure whisper. i'm slippy and half-cocked, leaning in to explain i've met an internet man. they smile, its uncomfortable. its true its true, i'm saying, sloshing alcohol onto the concrete. its a lie. i sit on the stairs in my best party shoes, with a smirk. i twist my ankle going upstairs to let people out. jeremy is second to leave, whispering good luck in south dakota and leaning away when i kiss him.

d-land