Thursday, September 25, 2008
Someone stole my camera
right out of my pocket, while I was dancing at a bar here. I turned around immediately and it could have been anyone, and there was just no way to tell. The worst part is that I had 140 pictures on it, which hadn't been loaded onto my computer or Facebook. Or, is the worst part that I have to spend the second half of my trip without a camera to capture any of it? Or maybe it's that I feel like I could have done something to prevent it, although I don't really know what. I hadn't even been drinking. Fuck.
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Hello, exhausted overanalysis. You've been hanging around this place quite often, haven't you? Are you doing well? Would you like a beverage? Some bubble up or a nice, refreshing XXXX lager?
No? Too much sugar or alcohol will make you become diabetic or alcoholic?
All right. Whatever you say.
No, I'm not trying to make fun of you, exhausted overanalysis, I'm just trying to make sure you're comfortable.
No, you don't look uncomfortable, I'm just trying to be a good host seeing as you've been here for so long.
No, I haven't been deliberately trying to ignore your needs by not asking you until now.
Oh, exhausted overanalysis, you are the quite the character.
(PS: That sucks, Theresia)
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