it all adds up

My math tutor Mr. Love and I went to a party last night where people queued up to get raggedy pieces of sushi and rice wine mojitos.

Cute calculus tutors aren't just for math lessons, they are also nice to bum cigarettes off of and chit-chat about art and skateboarding.

We left early-ish and then I dropped him off at a guy friend's house before they headed off to meet some chicks for a double date. Which kind of made me feel like Mr. Love's mother.

Or hot older sister.

That's funny isn't it--cocktails with me before heading off on a double date. Yeah--the hot older sister version is a better one.

Speaking of being in your twenties, twenty-eight out of thirty is what I got on my calculus final. The prof upgraded my grade because I am such an effing math genius that I may have to go back to school and get my master's degree in science rather than art.

This is how a day in the life of a college grad goes on week one of summer vay-cay:

the usual sleep in, coffee, etc. and then
to the gym (pilates class and forty-five minutes on the elliptical, most of it with my eyes closed as I envisioned running and running and running)
shower, primp, dress (slipped on the great new casual black cotton tunic that I may wear everyday for the rest of the summer)
and then a mani/pedi (Chick Flick Cherry on the toes and pale pink on the fingers)
and then rose wine and hamachi in the afternoon
browsing around a bookstore (I need more books, right)
and then an artsy party with a smart boy 
and then a quick stop at my fave spot before heading home to watch Tivo and my Lakers KICK ASS.

Sweet.

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