All of my pictures of the ice cream came out blurry. So many retakes. I felt like one of those Asians. I have the tendency to wander around stores by myself, even if I show up with other people. I spent most of my time at Streetlight Records looking for her.
Matt’s house was huge. Marble floors and shit. “Welcome to my sex room…” His room was fucking elegant. Like if I was a girl I’d fucking love it in there. Black sheets and some fire fountain and some naked black statue ended up being a lamp. “My parents got it from Europe,” he said. I get a humble vibe from Matt but maybe that’s because I’m not an Asian girl. I was sitting on his bed with Geraldine and Matt introduced his sister to us. “Oh my god you’re so pretty,” she said. I wonder how it feels to hear that often.
Eugene bought the egg rolls and I took advantage of the situation by taking some beautiful pictures of everyone. He ended up being my Secret Santa and gave me a beautiful pair of boxers along with a digital copy of Watch The Throne, which I’ve been sleeping on since forever. Amy’s black tea looked a lot like salsa, and Alexa’s onesie was probably the best gift that night.
It’s days like these that make me wish I lived in San Jose.
Thirty-five degrees below comfortable and the lighting’s fucking dull; iced water glasses stayed full. The pasta was overpriced but thankfully split - only to be put on one check. I didn’t check what they put on her plate only because I didn’t want their attention split. Took her home, thankfully. Gas was overpriced but we were under pressure. The car? Thirty-five degrees above whatever temperature fogs the windows.