this person I know says, Do you want some champers?

The party raged.

Does calling myself a college graduate begin on the day of my last class, the day of the ceremony, or the day I get the certificate in the mail?

Can I just say that from now on I will always have a DJ at my house parties. Always. And DJ's named Dominick in particular.

And he must always set up in the tightest spot in the house because who doesn't like to dance in a pulsing, hot, disco-lit room'?

Effing-eff.

This new me, the me that is a college graduate, shall I

I was going to say "Tell the truth?"

But then if I'm going to gossip (tell the truth) about my own party and the people that read this bloggy are the ones at this mentioned party then maybe: "No."

Raged.

I had a conversation a couple of days later. It goes like this:

So. How do you feel?

Fine. Okay. Good. Fine.

Do you feel accomplished?

(nothing)

Feel like a smarty college grad?

No.

Do you feel like making art?

Hmm...no.

Do you feel like making stuff?

No.

What do you feel like?

The maid.

What?

Like the maid.

In a daze?

Yeah. In a daze.

Ha ha. In a daze.

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