Foul mood, stemming from weekend

I am in a foul mood.

I spent entire weekend with absolutely no human contact. Had gone down to see boyfriend who left an hour later to spend weekend with grandmother. Couldn’t go back to my fancy apartment because car had gotten itself into trouble.
Got a call a Saturday 10:30 at night call from group of trying highfalutins.

Join us.

Fav young prof friend, Otto, is here.

Drinks, company and conversation.

And my response?

I adopted fake sleepy voice and pretended I was in bed already.

Moment of curious epiphany - When, did I, the friend of the world, get to the stage where I would rather be alone than be with company of trying highfalutins sans favyoungproffriend, Otto?

Is this a sign of maturity or advancing antisocialism?

Gone are the days of partying till the wee hours, catching a few snoozes in some strange flats with a dozen friends and then being up and ready for brunch with newly acquired acquaintances.
Tonight, I am content with my sack of books and mags which includes old Children’s book that tells me an effective way of dealing with little liars involves story of lightly nipping tongue with grandmother’s scissors. It’s true.

All this, I very much prefer to one sided conversation with trying highfalutins on the aesthetics of the European Union, or Californian wine vs. French wine.
So I turned my reading lights on, turned airconditioning to full blast, buried myself underneath boyfriend’s fluffy quilt, and read. Wasted a few brain cells watching sad sad Perfect Storm, lovely lovely Campus Ladies, and frightening MTV’s Sweet Sixteen (Lord please let no spawn of mine grow up to be so rude n mean). And also had pumpernickel bread, goat cheese and pistachios (soooo good) and sip of boyfriend’s beer (soooo not good) on boyfriend’s bed (sooo evil).

I came back after weekend at boyfriends’ without boyfriend to find perfect apartment infested with filthy dogs of trying highfalutins, roomie on the living room floor fending off aforementioned dog who highfalutins have thrown out of the bedroom that roomie so generously gave them. Foul foul highfalutins. Fav youngproffriend in underwear is curled up in my bed. Entirely forgiveable as he is, afterall, my favyoungprof friend.

I am in a foul mood. So foul that I am thinking of subtly sending highfaultins link to blog.