Dear Diary,
Right about now, I'm having one of the worst hangovers in my life. Yesterday was the night of the Golden Jubilee gala, in aid of the homeless pigeons at Central Park. Practically anyone who's anyone was there. And let me tell you this, it was SO boring. My parents were talking to their own colleagues and friends all night whilst my cousin Olivia and sister Mackenzie and I were stuck at the Cavallari/Belmont/Gascoigne table. We tried to see how many grapes we could throw into our parents champagne glasses without them noticing. I got 10! Once the majority of adults had left the table, we snuck 3 bottles of champagne out onto the balcony and had a party of our own. Ever since I brought Kenzie out with me clubbing when she was 11, we've had to be a bit more secretive about what we get up to around our parents; or else I risk getting dumped at some expensive European boarding school again! Olivia got so wild that she even started to climb up the roof with her bottle while Kenz and I were laughing histerically. Then we started belting out songs from the 2000s, my personal favourite being Glamorous by Fergie. We left the gala early and took the bus - yes, the BUS - to the Palace Hotel. Also, while I'm at it, please let this be a reminder to never take public transportation ever again! Anyway, we headed straight to the bar where we ordered around 10 Cosmopolitans, 8 Manhattens and 3 of my very own cocktail, exclusive to NYC called the "Bianca"! We strutted around for most of the night, dancing badly to whatever music they had on in the background. When we were done, we headed up to the penthouse suite that Olivia's dad had rented out and had a pillow fight, which one knock to the head resulted in me passed out for the night. So now, here I am, writing this on the balcony whilst being blinded by the scorching sun. Sometimes I think that at parties, we secretly just all try to out-drunk eachother. I wonder if my existence on this planet is nothing more than just a spectacle for outsiders to read about in gossip columns. But whenever I get too deep in my thoughts, I pour myself a glass of liquor and max out one of my 10 credit cards I have on hand.
Xoxo, B 💖. |
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