a social night

Washing my clothes now. The gentle hum of the washing machine makes today feel even more like a Sunday. It whirs around and round. The time is noon. I think I have things to do. But none of it is pressing for tomorrow. So its hard to get it done. My list:

-Rewrite Hemingway paper. (Focus on thematic response, not plot summary)
-Work on World Lit. Research Paper
-English 101 Reading
-Japanese History Reading
-Watch Seppuku for Jap. History
-Read Tobias Wolfe for Amer. Short Stories
-Work on Jap. History Research Paper

Those are my pressing matters, which will need to be dealt with all at some point in November.

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Last night I saw the Rolling Stones thanks to Brian. They were pretty fucking rad. I enjoyed myself. I guess I wouldn’t have bothered to see them on my own, so its cool that the opportunity came up where I didn’t have to shell out that ticket price to go watch them.

It was really weird seeing who attended. Mostly all these baby boomers and old people. All rocking out. Now they have the time and the money to see this band of their era and they were thoroughly enjoying it.

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We went afterwards and ate at The Social House down at the TI. That place is insane. Its this super chic, new sushi joint. It’s really awesome, and the food is great. Brian and I just kept at it with the sake and let my mom drive home. Which, hanging out with those two is strange, but really funny. Because at night I never realized they become these characters straight out of a Fitzgerald novel. Brian with like 3 different drinks in his hands wandering around telling his life story to all these people. And my mom bouncing around with him laughing and telling jokes. And they get really dirty which is awkward but again funny. Brian likes to point out all the hot women and he calls them Bone Smokers.

I ended up finding Raj down at the pit too and he walked around with us. Devo, your dad rules. We have to go to The Social House at some point man. Its really dope.

I managed to get the keys from Brian who got plastered. And then I let my mom drive that truck of his. Which they parked on the first floor because security said we didn’t meet the clearance for anything higher in the garage. My mom ended up continuing her character by driving on the wrong side of the road at fucking 3 in the morning. Some men in trucks had to point her in the right direction.

It was an interesting night. The sushi and sake was bomb, so was the place, and the music was good too. Can’t wait to go back to that place again.

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we find some time, in-between the shouts and screams of the people’s rush.
they make the sounds, of the crashing plane.