Accepted two dances with semi-creepy dude. Because well I like to dance at rock shows (no one else was dancing) and hell why not. que sera sera right?
Well after that … he wouldn’t leave me alone. I kept denying more dances with him. He started moving my hair out of my face so he could see the whole “beautiful” thing and remember it forever. And he was memorizing my face, from my one dimple smile to my freckles. Then he said that we’d meet back there in 4 years (he wanted me to promise) and if it was meant to be we’d get married. And then his super drunk brother started arguing about water rights with me, told me that I was a genius and to join him in changing the world, then started nonstop telling me I was beautiful, while simultaneously catcalling the lead guitarist chick. The catcalling was my exit. ugh. So many other things should have been.
Guess who got arrested at the end of the night? Dance dude and his brother. I was actually kind of glad because it meant they weren’t waiting on a corner for me somewhere.
This is why girls aren’t nice. Being nice doesn’t pay. Being nice can get you in trouble.
Last night out on the town before the move. Pint night and a folk/rock show. Makeup on my A game … let’s do this.
Oh I totally went for a short hike today. I just didn’t blog about it. So did it really happen?
Yeah … so these are from Valentine’s Day. Maybe it’s pathetic that I saved them. But it was the first time I had ever received flowers and it was the best surprise. The rock is from a hike we took. "I have something for you" he said with a smirk as he pulled it from behind his back, revealing it as if it was a precious gemstone. I threw it in my daypack side pocket and kept it … obviously. That lichen speckled igneous pebble is precious to me.
My room is mostly packed. My posters are down. God do I hate bare walls. Not going to lie, I teared up at the thought of throwing these flowers away. Tonight I’m a little lonely. I’ll be alright.
You know what sucks about moving … other than EVERYTHING?
Realizing that 95% of your clothes would either fit better or actually fit if you lost weight. Apparently I’ve been living in dresses and it’s weird because back when I was super self conscious (and actually average sized) I hated dresses because they showed off too much skin and I didn’t want anyone to see how “big” I was.
Now the thought of completely covering up is revolting because I’d feel like a stuffed sausage. Well, I guess living somewhere where the temperatures are constantly above 100 will also do that to you.
But really. I think I actually need to stop with the beer for a long time. I’m basically at my highest weight … and I hateeeeee that.
Last time as office baked goods fairy. Cookie cupcakes coming right up.
booty appreciation post: I’m all about that bass, bout that bass … I wonder what would happen if I actually did squats regularly. Dat ass would be ridiculous.
2000m row (HIIT), 10 minute treadmill on max incline
Going away party means dressing up … which means three ridiculous selfies. So vain. Meh. Don’t care.