Friday Nights

She has just spent the entire day shopping for tonight. She has picked out a nice, glittery dress, one that will reveal most of her body instead of cover it up in this cold time – it is okay, she convinced herself that a few star jumps will do the trick. She picked out a nice, tall pair of high heels in fluorescent green to suit her lack of clothing, and had just been to the hairdresser who licked her hair so straight that no spillage of drinks will affect her later tonight.

She then came home and applied some fake tan to her body just in case she had to take her clothes off later, and immediately put on her dress and heels because she cannot wait to head back out dressed in them. She then looked at herself in the mirror – fantastic! She bent down, pulled open the drawer fatigued with the weight of cosmetic products, and began to layer varied creams and powders to acquire a complexity decent enough for photographs. After all, many boys will see these later on for months, so if she does not score tonight which is doubtful, she will keep scoring for weeks after.

She had no time to have her nails done. Rather, Vanessa’s Nail Art did not have any appointments. She never went anywhere else. So she purchased a packed of fake nails before she was home to apply herself. After all, her slender arms did not want to be seen by her side if they had not had any fake nails attached to them. She checked her phone – thirteen texts, four missed calls and some new Snapchats. She was tagged in a Facebook post, it turns out her friends could not wait for her any longer, so they left without her. She was to meet them at the club. She waited a little longer for her phone to charge some more, gathered some of her little belongings in her purse and called a taxi. Her night ahead would consist of giving love to strangers and receiving love from creeps.

I have spent my entire day at university. I have been working on my four final artworks all month, finessing them and making sure they will have a profound impact on others in the same way that the idea of them had a profound impact on me. I spent my month’s money on bits and pieces to place in them, on final prints and on supplies. I presented them to my teacher and to my peers and they were all overly content with the visual display of pieces of my mind and the ways in which I executed them.

I headed back home – I could not wait to dress down to the comfiest of pants and the warmest of jumpers. It was, after all, the second coldest evening of the month, leading up to winter, and I just recovered from a cold, and I need to be better by next week because of a final presentation taking place for my English class. I need all the warmth and comfort I can get. I have been, after all, working quite hard this semester, and all of my work paid off, now I need to finalize some other pieces of work for other subjects, and invest the rest of my time to winter school.

I had free time now, so I put the movie Mr. Wrong on and laughed and cringed at the many scenes involving Ellen Degeneres acting like a heterosexual. Inevitably, due to the lack of sleep I had the previous nights, I fell asleep and woke up to many other movies premiering on television, because Friday nights are accommodated for in that sense. I checked my phone – a few Snapchats, a few notifications. I placed it on charge for later tonight.

Ritually, I prepared myself to head over to my grandmother’s house with my family to hang out with our relatives, watch some horror flicks and laugh at things that happened in the week. I would return home and read a little and head off to bed. And I would not have it any other way.