I don’t feel any different today. (Except a little shocked that Masanz sang to me) My left arm still has a torn muscle, and my left knee still gives me a slight limp. My hair is the same length, and i’m wearing old clothes. I still smoke, still drink coffee, and still enjoy the same things. But now everything I do will be legal. Except drinking. And really, when you think about it, 18 isn’t that big of a number.
I plan to cut the fabric for my dress tonight. I’m not going to draw it out, because that’ll mess everything up. I work well with my hands but I can’t draw. Not well at least. And not proportionally.
This next week will be nice. It will be me and my sewing machine all week. I’ll be able to relax. Granted I won’t be able to see my friends, but I’ll get to spend time with my dad and step mom. I don’t see them often enough.
I also took a camera from class and got some more film. I’ll probably pick up a few more rolls of black and white at the store before I head to Waupaca. I need to work on my long exposure and lighting techniques. If only it didn’t cost money to do it. The park I used to smoke salvia in is surrounded by some beautiful architecture and there’s a river that runs down the other side of it.
I’ve been having the itch to learn more German. What I know doesn’t feel like it’s enough. I can speak it well right now, but i’d like to know more. I want to be able to dream in German again.
I’m going downtown tonight. I love that my birthday fell on a Thursday. I can go to open mic night, see my friends, get some coffee, all in the orange hue of the downtown strip. I’ll probably listen to some durka while I’m there. Some Ali Johar and Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan sounds good.
ciao for now.
