2001-12-09 || 12:13 a.m.

|| saturday night, yeah huh. ||

the problem with the hand sisters is that we have absolutely no tolerance for alckyhol. two drinks and we are arm in arm on wet sidewalk. we are stumbling upstairs and one of us is lying down in the hallway waving her legs about like a kafka-esque insect. 'take a picture it'll last longer take a picture it'll last longer' she shouts, and i comply and then tell her to shush due to the close proximity of nosy landladies.

i taught my sister how to smoke at club mallard. 'mummy and dad would kill me if they saw what we're doing,' i say, as kelly brings the cigarette to her mouth. 'don't suck it like that, you look like a monkey.' she holds it like a pro now. a man came over and laughed at us. 'i inhaled and it felt like i was shot in the chest.'

bad bad bad.

hmm. drunkiness.

hmm. orange stoli.

kelly is in her hoodie under blankets. she is slobbering over jimmy fallon and meow is on my lap. tomorrow we go to mama's royal cafe (sweet molly, i am sending you heavenly home fries in a grease-soaked envelope. xoxo) fer breakfast and san franny fer record shopping and making movies in golden gate park with owie if it's not raining. hooray. livin for the weekend, mmhhmm.

sunday night is owen and the papercuts at kimo's. please go, okay. yes. i will introduce you to me lovely sister.

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