writing about what makes me feel like a dumb b!tch
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While my boyfriend gave me a detailed rundown of the frescoes at The Basilica of Santa Maria Novella which he had studied during his art history degree I was preoccupied with what the fuck was going on with a girl wearing a purple paper poncho over her clothes.
Although I like to grumble and say, why does everyone think hosts are out to get them, some nights you have a real us v.
Someone commented on one of my posts asking me to write more about going to an all girls school on the Upper East Side.
I’m sitting at Tiella in east London eavesdropping on the woman behind me loudly telling a man, who I can only assume is a first or second date, so much about her life that I’m both horrified and impressed.
At work a man walks in who, maybe an hour or so before, had come in asking for a table at 8:30pm.
My favorite book is Summer Crossing by Truman Capote which my mom bought me when I was maybe twelve years old because she thought I’d like the girl’s outfit on the cover and she was not wrong.
There’s a heatwave in London, a city that famously has little to no air conditioning in most places, it’s 95 degrees fahrenheit and I don’t care what that is in celsius.
If I ever wanted to scam a lot of people and have no one question it, I would offer a Sofia Coppola Short Film Award and charge $25 per application.
There’s something so embarrassing about going to Paris.
On Sunday May 31st there was a full moon in Sagittarius and it was a blue moon and both a girl’s mom on Tiktok who is a witch and The Cut told me that it was a life changing blue moon that would finally fix all my problems.
