Yes, this is a post about how my day was so flawless I need to inform the uninterested world of its contents. No shame/it begins now.
I skipped my socialism class because of my involvement with more relevant activities which lead to my strategic use of a turtle neck (sorry, I’m not) and then biked to school thinking today is destined to be straining. Well that thought was Chuck Testa’d, I was actually biking towards the most perfect/quirky indie flick day ever. I visited the book sale again and vigorously searched the vinyl section for my much needed Chopin record to no avail which left me Woody Allening through the aisles and commenting on people’s interactions in my head. A few minutes later, some boy came out of nowhere and handed me four Chopin records (my guess is he heard me ask a volunteer if they had any left or Michel Gondry is actually controlling my life or turtlenecks make me delusional and none of this really happened because he disappeared after that like a knight in strangely shaped glasses). I trotted out of there with my new records and Proust’s biography ($4.75 total) thinking it can’t possibly get better than this. NOPE CHUCK TESTA, I go to the last five minutes of my gender roles class and am handed a rolled up poster, a CD, and a very cold carton with the words “happy early birthday, don’t open this yet” and the sight of him biking off. I bike away feeling like a cavalier on horseback with the records in one hand and the rolled up poster in the other to a coffee shop containing some of the loves of my life. Naturally, I unravel the poster to the photo featured above of me and Karl Marx skating together and started flailing my arms uncontrollably while sobbing. Luckily the carton contained pistachio ice cream so I could weep and be gluttonous with friends. The poster is on my wall, I finished the ice cream, and am generally OK with Michel Gondry actually being God and organizing my life. Also, I haven’t done laundry in so long I decided against wearing panties today. This has been a post.
