partying

Bleeding ink left and right!

Ok, I like to mix things up a bit every once in a while and this time I chose calligraphy as my next challenge.

I had a fountain pen when I was younger but this time I got the Pilot Parallel Pen. THE pen of all pens! If I can’t slap some nice letters together with this pen then I should just give up and leave the world of calligraphy to those more competent.

Anyway, it came with two-what looked like good sized-re-fills. I thought they were going to last me for days. Four hours of practice later, I ran out of ink and have to get the re-fill. How is that possible? I realize the 2.4 mm nib had something to do with it but sweet Pen-O-Mighty, I could not believe how quickly the ink was gone.

This is the result of my practice:

unnamed

Did anyone else have the same experience?

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Clubbing for the sake of clubbing

Michael and Kate have been together for seven years now, I think. Kate has gorgeous black hair and she pierced Michael’s heart with those stunning blue eyes of hers. Michael is also quite a handsome man who can drown himself in alcohol every night and yet, he is not whiny and groggy when his hangover kicks in the next morning.

The reason why Michael and Kate are so fascinating to me is that they are thirty-ish years old and they still go out clubbing. Twice a week is a must! Before you say Michael and Kate obviously don’t have jobs, Michael has a full-time job and Kate does work full-time too (although she tends to go from one job to another). But since I have known them, they go out and get drunk like they are still fifteen. And the thrill is apparently still there. How is that possible? How is the thrill still there?

To me the thrill faded away when I met David. Because, honestly, once you meet someone you are pretty serious about- you don’t really want to go clubbing anymore. I mean….dark, smokey places with drunk, sweaty and often slimy strangers accompanied by loud, repetitive music kind of lose their appeal. Right? Then, I got older too and staying up til 6 am felt like a punishment, not enjoyment. I couldn’t stay up all night anymore; my back hurt like I was carrying heavy blocks of cements around for hours (just from standing/dancing at the club) and waking up the next afternoon felt like I was a living zombie- by the time I woke up the night was coming down and ultimately I failed to see the light of day.

And as I am typing this on a sunny Monday morning, barely awake from my seven hour sleep, I know Michael and Kate probably got home at 4 am and are already at work talking about another great night of partying. And I wish I could understand the thrill again. But I just can’t.

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