Because there's just too much ugliness.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

I'm dreaming of a white sand christmas

So it's awfully cold here, and I guess I'm gettin' to dreaming...guess where I'd like to be??




Never been out of the country before. I dream about it every day. Someday I intend to, except I already know it won't be as wonderful as my imagination and I'll be dissapointed. Everything is that way, for me. Still, getting out of the country has got to be amazing. Just look at these photos!
Reminds me of a night here in DC. Me, my sister, and friend, were in this bar in Georgetown at 11:00 pm, in line to get our books autographed by the Sartorialist, Steven Schuman, himself. We were the youngest ones there by...oh, say, 15 years. Add to that, we're pretty and we know how to do chic! So people were obviously noticing us, a few spoke to us. These two guys came up, one in a pinstripe suit and pink shirt beneath, the other in all black with shaggy black hair over one eye. They began to speak to me, asking questions and looking so grown up I started to feel like I was three.
"In Paris last year, everyone was talking about Steve!" One said. I looked excited.
"you've been to Paris?"
"why of course. You haven't?"
"No, I've never been out of the country." I said shortly, feeling a little annoyed at his tone.
"Why darling, you must go. Paris is the dream of a lifetime. I lived there." Said the shaggy-haired one, and his companion nodded sagely. Are you TRYING to rub in how much younger I am? They began to talk to eachother, in some foreign language. I stared at them for a moment, then they looked at me expectantly.
"Wow, you speak German too?"
"Duetsch? Of course. I lived there." He says, and I flush at saying "German" instead of "Duetsch." He tells me a little more, and then asks how old we are. I tell him I'm the oldest, at eighteen, and they seem dissapointed.
"Well, off for more drinks. Pleasure, darling." Shaggy Hair says, and he leans foward and kisses my cheek. I'm surprised, and back up a bit. No, he leans foward again.
"My dear, it is both cheeks, that is what we do." he says, and kisses my other.
"Oh, the Germans?" I mumble. Somebody shoot me.
They wander off, looking just as European and hipster as possible. It is only minutes later that I collect myself enough to laugh.
"you really MUST go to Paris, DAHLING." My friend teases. We recovered our lameness in minutes.

Ah yes, I shall go to Paris, Shaggy Hair, Dear. But first To Greece, Italy, Australia, and Hawaii!!

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