Oh hey there. I guess you've decided to read my blog. Good for you! While you're at it, post a comment or join the Awesome Club. Let me know what you think. Refer other blogs you think I'll like. You might be wrong, but hey, at least you tried.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

I'm confused.

Blogger has a new interface and its messing with my BRAIN. Gah.  Anyways.

I was too tired last night to do anything but upload beagle pictures, but since a picture is worth a thousand words, you guys should be thankful I even put that effort in.  You know, for those of you that actually enjoy reading my blog.  Those few: those not-so-proud.

Do you have the time to listen to me whine... About nothing and everything at once?  I am one of those melodramatic fools.....neurotic to the bone- no doubt about it...

Because that's what's about to happen.

So I went clubbing the other night.  Unless you're friends with me on facebook you've been spared the pictures.  The whole getting ready thing was a lot of fun.  A couple guy friends couldn't believe that I actually had the capability to wear heels, which, as one of the girls pointed out, comes innately to most women, because we handle pain so much better then our male counterparts.

Who ever said they were the stronger sex?

Anyway, I was getting ready and I hear one of my girls say "Yeah, she's in there".  Oh dear god here it comes....

KNOCK KNOCK JENNY LET ME IN I WANNA SEE KNOCK KNOCK JENNY!!!!!!!

Alright already.

So I go out there and we did the whole "Not Another Teen Movie" thing down the staircase...in front of my whole hall and 5 RA's.

So around 30 people.

I didn't fall through the staircase though, that would have been difficult to re-create.

It was fun, pictures were fun, my creeper paying a visit just to see me all dolled up was fun, and it kinda all went downhill from there.

I mean, I wanted to have fun.  I love loud music, and I like to dance.  But the first club we went to was like, empty.  I tried not to laugh, but inside I just knew that this would happen the first time I agree to go out.

So we go to another one.  This one's quite the opposite.  It's packed.  You can barely move.  There are so many creeps, just not MY creep, the one that has permission (he knows who he is).

And like I said, I like to dance.  But there wasn't room.  I was teetering on my heels.  I was wary of having a drink spilled on me.  I was afraid of all the faceless boys that decided that coming up behind me to dance was alright.

It wasn't, and I made that clear.  I'd rather be an Ice Queen then a skank.  1: I had no interest in dancing with them, I'm happily taken. 2: Where, in the actual world, is it o.k. to sneak up on a total stranger like that?  I'm sorry, but I don't drop the general morals I was brought up with when I enter a certain place.  They shouldn't either.  Excuse me for having standards.

At this point, the dancing was just tiring.  I didn't feel into it.  I tried to be, but it felt forced.  I wanted to have more fun, but I just wasn't.

That's when I noticed how much my feet hurt.  Oh my gosh OW!  I had given up on the fun aspect and now I was in pain.  Talk about your downhill spiral.

I can safely say that unless the circumstances were drastically altered, I probably wont go to a club again.

As in: all the creeps would have to go
There would need to be room to dance
And the music would have to be something tolerable to my boyfriend because he would have to come with me.

Like I said, probably never going to happen.

But I'm glad that I went.  I just wish I had more fun.  I think that being able to go is just another step towards trying to enjoy the college life.  For those of you that knew me as a freshman, and who are we kidding, even as a sophomore, you know I would never do those things.

I'm not trying to change myself, I'm just trying to be more open to exploration.  Experimentation, whatever you want to call it.  Most people seem to like the change.  I'm surprised at how much I enjoy CERTAIN people.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Other people not so much.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Leave a comment. Or don't, but I mean, you're already here.