Nevereverland.

Today was such a pointless day. I told myself I'd wake up at ten (superduper early by my book) to do my long overdue homework and prep for tomorrow's in-class essay, but no. Instead I woke up at one and have been snacking on crackers since, watching past episodes of The Nanny and pouring lemon juice into my iced water everytime I downed half a mug.

I have given lazy sunday a whole new definition. It's fantastic.

Here are a handful of photographs from last night. I avoided people pictures just in case, except for Mitch and his cake, because everybody wants to see that, right?

We only had one strobe light but it was enough, and when it was gone we didn't need a light. We just danced in the dark.

CANTUS FIRMUS.

I knew a girl who wore three-quarter shirts paired with fluoro tights, and when she walked into the room she smiled at us like we were special ed kids and she was secretly related to Grace Kelly. The ponytail atop her head used to swing around like helicoper blades when she moved, and if you made her angry, she hissed.

I never liked her but I liked her tights.

I failed both my english literature and music literature tests today, and not in the frivolous sense. I left half of my music lit paper blank because I failed to remember what the fuck compositional devices even were, and neither of my english lit responses were complete when the hour was up. We also got our math results back (fail) (okay no, 64.8%) and there is a geography test on wednesday, and an in-class religion essay for friday. Life is glorious! I miss home.

Right now I'm a bubble of happy happy thoughts and pretty rather depressing ones.

Comme un tendre et triste regret.

The last photograph is the most perfect photograph, to remedy the pains rushing art essays and music compositions at four thirty am on a school night will inflict. This is the life; didn't anyone tell you?

(Comme un tendre et triste regret is the section of Debussy's prelude that is keeping me up. That, and my humming of other unrecognisable songs. TEEs should come with a warning label, but only for insomniacs. Good children needn't worry.)

OH DEER.

It's nearly six in the morning and I should really be in bed, getting ready for a nice long Sunday's worth of study study study. But we all know that's not happening, so instead I bid you my warmest welcome to MUD AND BONE, my 8346th blog this year thus far. Hopefully this one will last.

I had an odd dream last night. We sat by the railroad tracks with our chins on our knees, ripping blades of grass from the soil and talking about nothing. You wouldn't look me in the eye, but that was okay -- both you and I were far too busy watching people run for the beach, with their hot pink floaties clutched under their arms and unlit cigarettes clasped between two skinny fingers. I woke up with the shivers, and it wasn't until the television was on that they finally went away.

On a brighter note, Perry Como makes me smile.