es tut mir leid

you know, this city really can give one a rather intense superiority complex. just walking down the street, you may realize, "well hot damn, julia, there are a few million unlucky bastards who think deboise is haute couture. and hot damn, look at you. nice rack." and then flash forward, and it's totally acceptable to a) be sort of condescending to people asking you directions (simply because you know the answer to all their geographical questions) and b) to drink a botttle of wine alone in your apartment, reading d.h. lawrence (trendy author of the semester {for this blog anyway })and listening to a rare 1928 recording of richard wagner's Tristan und Isold. i mean honestly, maybe i'm just displacing my feeling of well-being that only belongs to alcohol onto cultural artifacts, but come on, i dont think you can argue that many teenage hipsters wouldn't revel in this environment.

basically, all my 17-year-old dreams have come true.

then again, maybe i should just go to sleep a) out of greatness and fear of underwhelming formerly mentioned quality. or b) because i have new dreams to have before my reality progresses. to the NEXT LEVEL. ausgezeichtnet!