Oh. My. God.
I'm beginning to think that 4th of July is my new favorite holiday.
Today was ridiculous in twelve different ways.
- I spent three hours theoretically "at work" doing almost nothing, due to some sort of miscommunication between Boss and I.
- Peter demanded that I donate my presence to the cause of his happiness,* so I had lunch with him.
- Pictures from the past few nights went up on facebook, which is always entertaining, especially in regards to nights like the last few.
- I mingled like a boss at the Independence Day event, making witty charming comments about the weather, as if I had been born to have these sorts of pointless conversations.
- There were bunnies in my front yard.
- I introduced some co-workers to some very pretty girls, because I am a good person.
- Someone who called himself a "Rock-Jazz Pianist" was in my living room, and was the source of the most phenomenal sounds I have ever heard from a piano.
- At the dinner following this event, karma proved herself to me.
- I drank something called a "libertini"
- Every question anyone ever had about the internet or social media or documentary film or soccer or Brown University was answered at my table.
- I managed to get through a vaguely messy dinner without marring the whiteness of my graduation dress.
- There was a dance party in my living room.
*People should use that sentence construction more often. As if my presence were a gift, and his happiness, a charity.
And now I'm wiped out. Actually, I was wiped out two hours ago, but Blythe made me keep dancing. She also steals people's sneezes. That deviant.
Clara
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