Here's a Story to Read and Some Pictures That Don't Go Along With It:
The Dinner Party: A Napkin’s Perspective
It is a black tie event. Men dressed in sleek back tuxedos, crisp white dress shirts, hair gelled and slicked back. Bow ties and the occasional colorful pocket square can be spotted amidst the black and white. The women are modeling the latest trends, with gorgeous gowns in shades that seem to outshine the birds from tropical paradises. Their faces caked with makeup, smokey eyes and bold, deep wine colored lips. The scent of musky cologne and bittersweet evening perfume hang heavy in the air. The old mansion slowly breathes with the sounds of heels tap dancing across the cold marble floor, the small talk, the gossip, the polite laughs, and the philosophy of middle aged men, slowly balding. All bathed in the dim yellow light of the ancient crystal chandeliers, and the flickering candles, casting long frail shadows on the tapestry covered walls.
The overwhelming mahogany doors creak open, and a new throng of guests float in. Among them, a pair of young wide eyed girls. Their eyes take in all that is offered, their dewy faces free of makeup beaming. A smile plays of their blushing lips, a laugh begging to escape. They waltz through the crowded dining hall, hand in hand, fading friendship bracelets on their slender wrists, cheap brass rings on their slim fingers, nails showing off chipped, glittery nail polish. Their boho chic attire is whispering with their messy, sun kissed hair that tickles the smalls of their backs.
They’re doing the tango now, weaving a thread in and out of the mingling party guests, eyes set on the near empty dance floor. They begin singing some song whose lyrics tell the hidden secrets of the milky way. They have kicked off their worn combat boots and oxfords, sliding across the floor in soft, fleecy socks. They shriek from joy and finally let out their laughter in bursts of high pitched giggles. They dance, eyes closed, to the music as though it is some sweet summer record meant for sipping iced tea on the rough parched grass, instead of a slow piece payed skillfully by a stern faced string quartet.
A silver bell is rung for dinner, shattering the growing party atmosphere, and the people make their way to their tables. The two girls head over their table in the middle of the dining hall, imitating the other guest’s seriousness, cracking themselves on the way. Their inspirations flinching not even once. As they settle down in their plush chairs cross legged, they sweetly deny their meal, prepared by a renowned, five star, chef all the way form France. Instead they gingerly pick up their utensils and begin to devour them hungrily. The waiter smiles politely, and promises to be back soon with some more water. The girls finish off their forks, spoons, and knives, moving onto their soup bowls and plates, crunching down on the porcelain. When the waiter returns with their water, they pour it out onto the floor, ice cubes skidding under the tables. As the sound of cracking glass dies down, and the floral arrangement and table cloth have been eaten, the girls lift their napkins up to their lips. And as they stuff them in their mouths, the party scene disappears, and the world goes black.
Here's what I learned about life while uploading:
a: Kate Nash is Flawless
b: You Can't Buy Someone a Secret Santa Gift if You Don't Know Who Your Secret Santa Is
c: I Like Triangles
d: Sometimes You Import Pictures and Then Delete Them Off Your memory Card and Then You Try and Upload Them To A Blog Post and They're NOT THERE
e: I am a Blueberry. Do not Question My Insides
f: Taking Global Tests on the Floor in the Hallway in the Sunlight> Life
g: I Want to Lie in the Middle of a Field in Some Country in Africa and Look at the Stars
h: You Should Come With
Lots of C.O. Bigelow Rose Salve Love,
Dodie