26, no longer just a law student, still drifty. I like reading, good music, and good food — but that’s most people, given a chance. I don’t really know what to say. I like sharp dresses, sharp shoes, sharp suits, sharp wit, driving late at night, unexpected gifts that make me smile. Putting people on edge, surprising them with things I say. I like to offer pretentious insights and make everything into a metaphor. I was better at it many years ago than I am now. And the usual: alcohol, fast cars, dancing on painful heels, poking fun at friends, whiskey in smoky rooms, the smell of old books, preferably all together at once. I was in the Netherlands for a year, but I’m home too soon. I buy things on impulse, and I hate any fruit I have to peel. I take pictures of things I want to remember. I make up food recipes as I go along when I have to use up food in my fridge. I thought I would like green fields and mountains, but I prefer bright lights and paved roads and getting lost in dark streets in the middle of the night. Drunk, preferably, but mainly just, young. I thought I would like driving through miles and miles of nothingness and wilderness less than I did. I love it when boys smile at me. Smoke bothers me less than it should. Almost every day is spent thinking about where I can go next. I am possibly condemned to ogling my law books, my square squat office, my piles of documents and manuscript comments, for the rest of my life.
I want to roam.