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Take Me Out
Oct. 3rd, 2010 09:01 pmHi, new friends. Welcome to the mess that is my LJ, I think I'll just conduct business as usual. Ask if there's anything you want to know.
What have I done lately? Largely been drunk. Dined at Restaurant Victor with my parents on Thursday. The food was incredible: French, less safely Michelin star oriented than Stiansen. We went with five courses, to get to the theatre in time. To see a play none of us really wanted to see it, a depressing Strindberg thing. It seemed like an interesting adaptation when we bought the tickets, it just wasn't very tempting when you had to sit through it. I had the best mussel dish of my life: a cappuccino with white chocolate. My toes curled, I moaned into the cup, and tried to make the waiter give me the recipe. I don't think he found my attempts very impressive. Can't think why, I'd only had too much wine, we were not laughing maniacally at everything.
We inhaled, coffee, port and desert, and made it to the doors at two minutes past. No amount of hammering and cursing could persuade them to open for us, so we took a cab back home. Home, drunk and in bed by 8 must be some sort of record. Friday I ran around in a sleep-deprived haze (going to be drunk means no sleep, apparently), trying to finish the essays without actually writing anything. Lunched with Anette to moan about the miserable state of our academic careers. More drinking that evening, to celebrate Siri's birthday. We walked across town in our heels and ended up at Revolver.
Finally, last night Line threw a birthday party. All I do is going to birthday parties, it seems. It was ridiculously fun, totally chaotic. Kristine and I ate raw garlic at some point, I have no idea why. But we did. Drunken logic is infallible.
What have I done lately? Largely been drunk. Dined at Restaurant Victor with my parents on Thursday. The food was incredible: French, less safely Michelin star oriented than Stiansen. We went with five courses, to get to the theatre in time. To see a play none of us really wanted to see it, a depressing Strindberg thing. It seemed like an interesting adaptation when we bought the tickets, it just wasn't very tempting when you had to sit through it. I had the best mussel dish of my life: a cappuccino with white chocolate. My toes curled, I moaned into the cup, and tried to make the waiter give me the recipe. I don't think he found my attempts very impressive. Can't think why, I'd only had too much wine, we were not laughing maniacally at everything.
We inhaled, coffee, port and desert, and made it to the doors at two minutes past. No amount of hammering and cursing could persuade them to open for us, so we took a cab back home. Home, drunk and in bed by 8 must be some sort of record. Friday I ran around in a sleep-deprived haze (going to be drunk means no sleep, apparently), trying to finish the essays without actually writing anything. Lunched with Anette to moan about the miserable state of our academic careers. More drinking that evening, to celebrate Siri's birthday. We walked across town in our heels and ended up at Revolver.
Finally, last night Line threw a birthday party. All I do is going to birthday parties, it seems. It was ridiculously fun, totally chaotic. Kristine and I ate raw garlic at some point, I have no idea why. But we did. Drunken logic is infallible.
