graceland's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Girl's are insane, and I am a girl Saturday night was girls out. During the day I went and had my hair done. It's so rock. SO ROCK. I can't even deal. The underneath is close to black with brown and blonde chunks on top and then he gave me this rock shag with bangs! Bangs! That set the tone for the day because after that, I just about looking gooood. I did some street shopping and took myself to Lord & Taylor. A sheer dress, 2 skirts, 6 tops, 1 bathing suit and two pairs of heels later, I left the building. And these BCBG heels I picked up are so f*cking unbelievable that I want to strut them all over town. I want to crush men with them. I heart them. Anyway, Girls Night Out was great with the exception of everyone bailing early. Bitches. And I had new hair and clothes and shoes!. I couldn't go home, so I kept going. Went to a bar that I knew people would be at and where I had met the man who is going to be my boyfriend (I really need a nickname for him), and rocked it. He didn't come in:-( Fokker. That should be his name. So that was sorta a bust with the exception that I had a great time. Oh! And there was this point where I thought everyone had gone to late night at this dude's house and that I hadn't been invited (paranoid). I said something about it to my friend and she was angry so we decided to crash this late night I had created in my mind. Let's define crash. I don't just create this imaginery late night in my head, I get myself all worked up to show them that not only am I cool, I ROCK ANY PARTY. HARDEST. I tell my friend I'll be right back for her and I go home and pack a chilled bottle of Vueve Cliquot, a long stemmed yellow rose, cigarettes and a quarter. Upon my return, my friend checks out my bag of goodies and starts dying laughing. I joined in. God forbid I think I'm losing a popularity contest. So before we headed out to this dude's apartment where I imagine is a late night soiree, I spot some of the alleged latenighters in the back of the bar and when I bring up the topic of late night and they see my bag, although one was wasn't planned, they want to have one. All the sudden the challenge wasn't present. I wasn't excluded. The thrill was gone. So I left everyone at the bar and went home. I have problems. Where is that guy who9 is going to be my boyfriend? I think I will call him Luke Wilson. That who he reminds me of. Luke Wilson needs to come back out of the woodwork. Here Luke! Embrace the insanity! I'm a good time! 9:25 p.m. - 2004-05-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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