We all seem to be going through a very testy phase right now, don't we?
The new parking garage opened last month. It has five stories and quite the view. Five stories is plenty. I chuckle deviously, ropes dragging behind me. My nose is sniffly.
When I visited Saigon, the hotel had an atrium in the center of the building whose glass ceiling stretched far far above us. It warmed the inexplicably French-decorated lobby on the ground floor, though why an atrium in a city with 100-degree weather and 90-percent humidity would need to warm anything was beyond me.
Our room was on the 14th floor, but the topmost floor was the 25th. There was a pool on the side of the roof opposite the atrium, with glass safety panels and suicide-proof railings. They thought well ahead, the devils.
Though not nearly well enough. From the 25th floor, one could lean over the marble half-wall beside the obnoxious golden elevator and peer down into the cream-colored lobby where tiny dark heads were milling about. What a comfortable landing that French lobby would make. I am sure many a mysterious Eurasian escort has thought the same thing, peering over that half-wall on some lonely night.
You know, because all luxurious hotels come with mysterious escorts. Pretty Woman? No?
Speaking of half-walls, I can't build them in the Sims 3. What will the Hobbits do for railings!
Tonight is all-nighter night. This is going straight up my nose.
This weekend, I made a yellow submarine out of Pearler Beads. Indeed, like my aunt had hoped, those beads kept us children occupied for hours. I also went swimming at the country club for a very long time, immediately after which I played tennis in a bikini with my younger cousins. It was a modest bikini, I argued.
At night, they made me drive them to see fireworks in a '99 Honda Civic that seemed to be driven by panic. Upon arrival, they dispersed and I promptly collapsed onto the grass and tripped out at the sky. Pretty excellent fireworks.
"i'm a twisted trainwreck and no one would ever suspect a thing..."
"i will be the prettiest wreck you ever did see."
....Erm.. You know when you get really, really embarrassed for someone?
Mantra time: I have to get better. I'm freaking wonderful. I feed on the disturbingly supple teats of Amazing. I brim with awesome, and with cream. I sweat glitter, and a whole host of my other bodily functions are needlessly shiny. I am a mod AND a rocker. Or rather: six of one, half a dozen of the other.
The world is changed because I am made of ivory and gold. The curves of my lips rewrite history, BITCH.
Dark have the times been, as of late... or whatever Theoden King says. I'm so over it. The Dark times, not Theoden. He's cool.
