So living at Carriage House, every weekend is a party. There isn’t really an option here. In fact, I’m pretty sure that somewhere in the lease it specifies that each weekend must contain a certain amount of partying. The thing is, I couldn’t care less about parties. That’s half true – if there were interesting people, I suppose I could get into it, but since that isn’t ever going to happen I’ll stick by what I said.
I think my lifestyle is very anti-party. I take every day pretty easy, so no day is really more or less stressful than any other. The idea that one day should be more fun than another just seems really stupid.
A girl I know came up to my room the other night while the party was going on downstairs. She mentioned how boring it was downstairs, and I asked if it was ever not boring. “Ya, when I’m drunk.” I think drugs lower standards on life, and let people lead boring lives without complaint. There are exceptions, but there is a problem with something when it is not fun unless you’re drunk.
Make life interesting.