Catching Up

Dearest readers,

I apologize for my prolonged absence from the blogosphere. Pan told me she had a new post today, so, after reading it, I went on my own blog and noticed that I hadn't posted anything for more than a month. The guilt almost overwhelmed me, I can tell you.

Many things have happened in my life in these past few weeks, emotionally significant events.
What happened that was such a big deal?, you may ask. Here's the list:

I got back from India,
which was traumatic, to say the least, because India rules and it reminds me of Turkey so I've developed an unhealthy emotional attachment to it. After three weeks of a mostly vegetarian diet, I was thinner and healthier, so much so that the first thing my mother said to me after not seeing me for ages was not 'Oh, TPF, apple of my eye, how I missed you!', or 'Oh, TPF, home is not the same without you!', but 'Wow, TPF, your skin is loads better.'

No, seriously, she actually said that.

And now for the visual aids.

Now this is what I call persuasion. Would you dare defy the author of this? I know I wouldn't. Of course, I don't own a car with which to risk it, but if I did, I'd steer clear of that gate. You know, this kind of reminds me of that scene from Godfather where Marlon Brando sends a guy the corpse of his favourite horse so that the guy wakes up in bed to see blood all over the place, lifts the covers and sees his dead horse. Of course, I stopped watching the movie after that scene because my 12 year-old cousin was with me and also because the volume didn't work and it was hard to understand Marlon Brando's sexy accent.

By the way, you've probably heard about the bomb blasts in Bombay. I was actually on one of those trains a month ago and I know people who use them every day. Luckily, everyone I know is OK, including adorable fuzz-head Eris, and Gary, whose house we stayed in for three days, but I think all that, plus the clubbing, plus the trudging in fashion street under heavy rains warrants a separate post.

I got a sexy tan
at Harry's house in Liguria (which is an Italian region by the sea). Yep, friends. I am no longer 'she of the sickly pallor', but 'she of the chocolate brown sexiness that goes with her prom dress'. Oh, right, the prom.

I partied
at the prom, which wasn't very good because the music was bad, but hey, at least I didn't buy a new dress for it. I used the same one I used in my tenth grade prom. Which means a) I haven't gained any weight, which is good, and b) My frontal assets have remained unchanged, which is decidedly less good. I personally like to think of option 'a' more.

I also partied at Vintage Girl's cool end of year bash/early birthday party where, believe it or not, there was an open bar and, believe it or not, decent music. Two mojitos, one vodka lemon, one sangria and liberal quantities of wine later I was having the time of my life. And this was the day after the prom. Thank God for Pan, who was somehow more sober than me (and that, friends, is an event in and of itself). And the day after that, at nine in the morning, I had to go for Graduation Day rehearsals.

Oh, right, graduation.

I graduated
from high school, obviously. My family was late for the ceremony. You know, I keep telling people that it runs in the family, that I can't help it if I'm always late, it's genetic, and people don't believe me. Well, if their parents were late for their graduation, they would believe me. And that's that.

Oh, Pan and I went to order photographs from the school photographer today and I discovered that I look positively miserable in my Graduation Day ones. I wonder why that is. Hmm. Maybe because my parents were late for it, and I soooo hope my mother reads this so she can see the pain she caused me. Sniff. I will so never get over this.

I went to the EXIT festival
in Serbia, where I got to watch Franz Ferdinand, Morrissey and, drumroll, BILLY IDOL. Oh yes. Billy Idol. Who is still incredibly hot despite his age. Who is so sexy I couldn't refrain from drooling and practically fainting despite the fact that my mother (also a fan) was next to me and I should have perhaps tried to maintain some decorum. Oh my. I am swooning at the memory of his hotness.

He sang everything. Everything except Cradle of Love, but perhaps that's a good thing, because I might have truly fainted had he sung Cradle of Love.

Franz Ferdinand were OK, but I don't like them much so I wasn't all that interested. Morrissey rocked, but I was disappointed because I'm much more of a Smiths fan and he didn't sing any Smiths songs. But he did sing How Soon is Now, which I happen to know off by heart because I used to watch Charmed.

Oh dear. I have just publicly admitted to watching Charmed. You know, I always hated Prue and was so glad when she died because every time I saw her I was inevitably reminded of Brenda Walsh from Beverly Hills, 90210 and I really disliked Brenda Walsh.

OK, now that I've got that out of the way...

I saw the Rolling Stones
at Milan's football stadium. Pan's post has more details on that. I can just tell you that it was amazing, despite the fact the Mick and Keith were little more than specks dressed in weirdly coloured clothing. And, oh, Start Me Up and Brown Sugar, one after the other... I practically died.

I got my IB results
which were good, and I am officially a Uni girl now! SQUEE! But term starts in October, so I have plenty of time to basically do whatever I want. Pan, Harry, Marry and I are supposed to go to Berlin sometime this month, but the way things are going, that is so not going to happen.

Speaking of Berlin...

Italy won the World Cup
for the first time in 24 years! AND I WAS THERE! Well, not at the World Cup, but in Italy. Italy went crazy. Even I went crazy, and I'm not even Italian! Seriously, I bought a flag for 10 Euros before I even knew if Italy was going to win or not. And I wore it as a belt the next day.

Meanwhile, the Middle East is going to war again and my life seems stupidly fickle and useless. Oh well. I shall indulge in the fickleness. Meanwhile, I shall also do some much needed blog-hopping and see how my beloved blogroll is doing.

Yours,
TPF