I turned 21 today.
I studied till 5 a.m. Had a nice 5-hour sleep, got "good" for my exam.
Put on a tie right after I got out of the auditorium. My dad bought it for me last weekend while he got himself a fine black tie, because he is a fan of John Constantine (Hellblazer comics / Constantine movie). Well, he likes the way John looks. Dad actually tought me how to make a good knot for my blue tie. And it looked gorgeous.
I got two boxes of my favorite chocolates (seashell-shaped, with praline inside), plus photo album (kinda standard). And a flower (oh my, I forgot about it - put it in the old Guinness bottle just now).
Then we went to the nearest mall. I ate double cheeseburger-with-more-cheese-please-yes-I-know-it-has-double-More-cheese-please. Then we went to see Men in Black 3, which was good. And I laughed hard, because oh it was enjoyable. And I got that curious look from a man who sat nearby when the movie ended. I know, man, I try to enjoy every bit of my life and I don't care about what others think.
Then I staaared at some collectible cars at kids' store (my friend wanted to buy some face paint). They had Shelbys (blue like I prefer them), but only 1968 and 1969. I fancy 1965 model, I even got my character in a detective story a Shelby (he'll paint it blue himself, you just wait; because it is not that good-looking right now, he 'bought' it in a bad state).
Then mom told me it would be nice for me and my dad to have a dinner because er 21st birthday, you know. But dad forgot his pills at home and all of the drug stores I could reach by foot did not have these pills - for months. Yeah, dad said he would check his nearest drugstores, but he never called back. Meh.
I came home in the afternoon. My place reeks of coffee and cigarettes. Not very nice smell, but somewhat homey.
I sat at the table and tried to freakin solve the problem with my computer. That's how I spent the rest of my day: swearing, reading bug reports on the internet, listening to Hugh Laurie (surprisingly good blues) and Rolling Stones, swearing again, drinking tea with sweets and cursing at my computer.
Oh, and my friend drew me a picture as a present, which kept me pretty happy for the day. Because it's cute and it's for me and it's fanart and it's my friend's.
But then I ran out of cigarettes (not exactly - still have 3 of them, but they are crashed. Then it was 10 p.m. and my bro called and congratulated me. And he said that I should cook myself a good dinner with a cake.
I thought he was right. Plus I needed tobacco. Nice lady at the store wished me happiness for my bd as I asked her what cake was the best out there. I did not like it. It turned out to be too sweet and it sticked to the upper part of the box in which she put it. But it still is my birthday cake.
Yeah, I didn't find the cigarettes I smoke, because they are pricey and it seems that they are not that popular here. So I had to buy random stuff. Okay. But I still want to complain: why the heck do they close at 11 p.m.? Do we all die after that time? And they used to work 24 hours, I remember that. Gosh.
So, that's it. The remaining 15 minutes of the day I will spend reading manual for noobs in linux, because that's who I am, not being able to fix my computer.
But who am I kidding? I can't even fix my life. I am a smoker and a drinker. I am alone on my birthday and I brag about it like a kid on the internet. At least I am not crying.
Actually, I am okay with that. I just like to whine.
This day is nice. I mean, I don't really know how I can make one day a year nicer than others, when my life is so awesome every day.
I studied till 5 a.m. Had a nice 5-hour sleep, got "good" for my exam.
Put on a tie right after I got out of the auditorium. My dad bought it for me last weekend while he got himself a fine black tie, because he is a fan of John Constantine (Hellblazer comics / Constantine movie). Well, he likes the way John looks. Dad actually tought me how to make a good knot for my blue tie. And it looked gorgeous.
I got two boxes of my favorite chocolates (seashell-shaped, with praline inside), plus photo album (kinda standard). And a flower (oh my, I forgot about it - put it in the old Guinness bottle just now).
Then we went to the nearest mall. I ate double cheeseburger-with-more-cheese-please-yes-I-know-it-has-double-More-cheese-please. Then we went to see Men in Black 3, which was good. And I laughed hard, because oh it was enjoyable. And I got that curious look from a man who sat nearby when the movie ended. I know, man, I try to enjoy every bit of my life and I don't care about what others think.
Then I staaared at some collectible cars at kids' store (my friend wanted to buy some face paint). They had Shelbys (blue like I prefer them), but only 1968 and 1969. I fancy 1965 model, I even got my character in a detective story a Shelby (he'll paint it blue himself, you just wait; because it is not that good-looking right now, he 'bought' it in a bad state).
Then mom told me it would be nice for me and my dad to have a dinner because er 21st birthday, you know. But dad forgot his pills at home and all of the drug stores I could reach by foot did not have these pills - for months. Yeah, dad said he would check his nearest drugstores, but he never called back. Meh.
I came home in the afternoon. My place reeks of coffee and cigarettes. Not very nice smell, but somewhat homey.
I sat at the table and tried to freakin solve the problem with my computer. That's how I spent the rest of my day: swearing, reading bug reports on the internet, listening to Hugh Laurie (surprisingly good blues) and Rolling Stones, swearing again, drinking tea with sweets and cursing at my computer.
Oh, and my friend drew me a picture as a present, which kept me pretty happy for the day. Because it's cute and it's for me and it's fanart and it's my friend's.
But then I ran out of cigarettes (not exactly - still have 3 of them, but they are crashed. Then it was 10 p.m. and my bro called and congratulated me. And he said that I should cook myself a good dinner with a cake.
I thought he was right. Plus I needed tobacco. Nice lady at the store wished me happiness for my bd as I asked her what cake was the best out there. I did not like it. It turned out to be too sweet and it sticked to the upper part of the box in which she put it. But it still is my birthday cake.
Yeah, I didn't find the cigarettes I smoke, because they are pricey and it seems that they are not that popular here. So I had to buy random stuff. Okay. But I still want to complain: why the heck do they close at 11 p.m.? Do we all die after that time? And they used to work 24 hours, I remember that. Gosh.
So, that's it. The remaining 15 minutes of the day I will spend reading manual for noobs in linux, because that's who I am, not being able to fix my computer.
But who am I kidding? I can't even fix my life. I am a smoker and a drinker. I am alone on my birthday and I brag about it like a kid on the internet. At least I am not crying.
Actually, I am okay with that. I just like to whine.
This day is nice. I mean, I don't really know how I can make one day a year nicer than others, when my life is so awesome every day.
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