I came across an old journal of mine yesterday while cleaning. This is exactly why I love keeping my journals– the chance to read old gems like the following:
February 24, 1992
Dear [inappropriate horse's name]*,
Sorry for having left you for such a long time. The next few months will be so exciting! I just wish Mom would let me get new pants. All I have is sweatpants. Ugh!
P.S. Pants like this –> [hand-drawn picture of stirrup pants]
* I just found out yesterday that this name is actually a racist term for a black person. Um, yeah. No clue whatsoever. Also, how cute of little 10 year old me– all I wanted were some stylin’ stirrup pants! Well, it WAS the 90′s…
What is it about being with a boy I like– really like– that turns me into a bumbling babbling ridiculous person? I mean, it’s kind of hilarious how horrible the transformation is from put-together well-spoken woman to Ms. Awkward. He says he finds it ‘endearing.’ Let’s hope he continues to think that way…
How to woo me with words:
“The dress looks hindi.”
When I receive messages that say something along these lines:
“We would like to have some fun with you guys this weekend. We can host. Let us know. “
Who are ‘you guys’? Did I suddenly develop a second head when I wasn’t looking? Or a multiple personality disorder?
And who is ‘we’? There’s only one guy in your profile picture. Is this the royal we?
I’m so confused.
Last night’s text message saying “can’t wait to see you this weekend”.
Did I mention that this new boy is super cute?
Weekends spent with friends
Watching little kids rock it out
Crossing things off the to-do list
Third dates with cute boys
It’s finally happened. At the work beer bash this afternoon one of my co-workers told me he’d seen me last weekend. While I was on a date. Boston why must you be so small???
Luckily my co-worker decided not to come over and say hi, ’cause that would have been pretty awkward.