No silly sixteenseventeeneighteen year old boy asked me to prom in the middle of the night by writing on my car.
It's better this way.
Really. I'm not trying to sound melodramatic, I legitimately mean it.
I sincerely don't care an ounce about prom. I suck at dancing in large groups--ask my last date, who would never say as much because he is too nice. And getting dressed up is nice, yeah, but I can't stand the pricetag associated with dance tickets, dress, shoes, makeup, hair, dinner, limo, corsage, on, and on, and on.
I'll go dancing in the streets with Paige or bra shopping with Koka or puzzle making with Michael or all of the above and more.
And for the record, I know I said the other day that I was going to call you, but after talking to two other people (who both called me), and hitting the ripe old hour of midnight, I couldn't stay awake any longer (I'm old). I'll call you soon, cause I want to.
ReplyDeleteLove you!