Party like it’s Cambridge
Last night, I went to a party thrown by my friend, Alice. I took my housemates, Camden and Olivo, and I wore the long, sheer, plain black dress that I got in a free shop at a squat where my friends had a queer cinema weekend and that I left to go an Alice In Wonderland party where palled around with and then kissed Allure in one of those successful nights where everyone is in love with you.
We arrived in the pouring rain and I spent the evening talking to my sister and old friends, Lucie, Richard and Charlotte, casting occasional glances at the pretty, straight girls milling around. I think I might need to just put my dislike of gay people aside and start going to stuff where lesbians go. Lord help me.
I talked to my sister about my worry that I’m starting afresh every two years. She told me she thinks I live an exciting life and that I conquer each city I move to. I was very flattered. I said I worried that I wasn’t having a successful long-term relationship and she said she thought it would happen. She said she has been the happiest ever over the last three “settled” years. We decided that maybe settled equals more happy but breeds wow I’m not cool enough dissatisfaction when you examine your life.
My housemates and I got home at about four-thirty a.m