Dear Diary,
I never thought a Tobias Funke quote would be applicable to my life. I was wrong. When the senior home is forced to evacuate due to a massive amount of spilled blue liquid while you are leading BINGO, if you fall, the only thing you can say to save face is, "I'm afraid I just blue myself." Taylor, the other girl volunteering, laughed and asked if I wanted to grab a drink at the end of the shift. That fake I.D. paid off.
As Taylor and I turned the corner onto Main, we noticed new blue graffiti that read, "YESU IS A KIDNAPPER AND IF YOU WANT TO SEE, GO TO APARTMENT 413." If New York is the city that never sleeps, I think I found the city that never has a normal, mundane day.
Joe's was packed. The blue liquid seemed to make people feel young, unencumbered by time or money. Taylor and I bumped into Tyler at the bar, and I was reminded of the night that I met my first Dreamwood friend on the roof. He still complained about the city, but his gloom had lessened since I last saw him.
Tyler's presence made Taylor a little skittish, but she relaxed with each shot. At 2:30 and shot number 10, it was time to go home. Tyler and I helped Taylor stumble up to the third floor, which was all I remember until waking up with a blinding headache in Tyler's apartment. I was pleasantly surprised by his breakfast invitation and joined him at Sunny Side Up for Flo's hangover cure: eggs, toast, coffee, and lots and lots of water.
This city is growing on me,
Lucia Jayne
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Sunday, February 1, 2015
Bonfires and Fake IDs
Dear Diary,
I think that I have been fairly successful in my quest for putting myself out there, but I can only do it in one-on-one situations. Inserting myself into groups feels like intruding. Without bringing something to the table, I am simply mooching off of their stories, their laughs, their fun. Yesterday, I happened upon a solution. Alcohol. In class, murmurs of the weekend's best shenanigans always include ample amounts of alcohol.
I contacted the campus ID dealer, Cameron to give him my height, weight, eye color, and upfront payment. Due to Dreamwood's crime crackdown, he insisted on meeting in a discreet location, even though we both live in Dreamwood Terrace. My directions were to come towards the smoke on Robin's Row at 6:15.
The night was eerily dark and quiet, appropriate for illegal activity in the abandoned warehouse district. Cameron's face was shaded by the flames of a bonfire. I reached over the small fire for the card, but he refused to hand it to me until I agreed to his rules. I was not to tell anyone where I got the ID or use it within ten miles of the city.
Finally, I will have something to bring.
Party on?
Lucia Jayne
I think that I have been fairly successful in my quest for putting myself out there, but I can only do it in one-on-one situations. Inserting myself into groups feels like intruding. Without bringing something to the table, I am simply mooching off of their stories, their laughs, their fun. Yesterday, I happened upon a solution. Alcohol. In class, murmurs of the weekend's best shenanigans always include ample amounts of alcohol.
I contacted the campus ID dealer, Cameron to give him my height, weight, eye color, and upfront payment. Due to Dreamwood's crime crackdown, he insisted on meeting in a discreet location, even though we both live in Dreamwood Terrace. My directions were to come towards the smoke on Robin's Row at 6:15.
The night was eerily dark and quiet, appropriate for illegal activity in the abandoned warehouse district. Cameron's face was shaded by the flames of a bonfire. I reached over the small fire for the card, but he refused to hand it to me until I agreed to his rules. I was not to tell anyone where I got the ID or use it within ten miles of the city.
Finally, I will have something to bring.
Party on?
Lucia Jayne
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