Went to Bean Broker's after class today.

Sat and drew in my brand spanking new sketching book.

For three fucking hours.

Doesn't anybody go there anymore?

Eventually Lisa and Geoff show up, right before closing, so I sit with them for a while.

Lisa leaves.

I considered heading back to the college, but Lisa invited me to see Kill Bill with her and a bunch of other people.

But it was in two hours.

Blah.

So I ask Geoff if he wants any company for drinking.

He does.

(Geoff looked like a freakin' Irish hitman: lanky, Irish features, wool trenchcoat, leather vest, cap...It was pretty funny.)

He's awfully quiet spoken, but beneath that, he at least knows what he's talking about.

Which is nice (for once).

We discussed liquor for a while.

Art.

SCA.

You know. Stuff like that.

We sat in a very classy, quiet little lounge that was attatched to some huge hotel. It was almost empty, but they had velvet couches and leather couches.

How could we go wrong?

I had a martini.

I freakin' love martinis.

I can't help it.

I was also introduced to some liquor whose name I can't pronounce (it was Irish, I think? The name was Gaelic, anyway) that was made with wormwood and served warm.

It was interesting and tasty.

He bought me that one. I bought the martini.

They were good. I was barely affected by the two drinks, much less than I thought I would be.

Probably because I drank slow.

Then I went and hooked up with Lisa and Paul and a whackload of other people that I don't remember the names of.

We went to the movie.

Damnd. It was good. Not for the weak of stomach, though.

Then I came home, and I am as you see me now.

Or read me.

Fuck. What ever.

.

Rosie.

Before&After