I've been sitting on my ass in front of the TV for two straight days, which is something I haven't done since I've been in law school. This is very liberating for me. I decided that I was going to whip up some butternut squash risotto for dinner, and around 5:30, I commenced dinner preparations still wearing my sweatpants and oversized t-shirt with a hole in it. By the time it was done, I had HALF AN HOUR to get ready for the annual law school bash. I am by no means high maintenance. But, if I'm wearing open toed shoes, then hells yeah I have to paint the toenails. The strapless bra itself requires a solid 15 minutes of buckling, turning around, pulling up, only to immediately sink again, only to have me pull it back up, ad nauseum, until I conceded defeat and threw on the top that I got from the junior's rack at a discount store that I'm still not sure I liked but wore to the event and got rave reviews for. Strapless shirt + strapless bra + gi-normous boobs = goddamn it when am I getting plastic surgery?
As I was whirling out the door in a frenzy, I realized I had missed 3 calls in the time that it took me to paint and dry (hair dryers are a girl's best friend) my toenails, throw on the evening face, party earrings and other appropriate accessories. Two were from law school friends. One was from... Mr. STF. I saw that I missed a call from him and I simultaneously thought, "I don't have the time for this!" "I look really hot tonight, clearly it's no coincidence that he called," and "This is cool. We haven't spoken on the phone since, like, October." So I was late, and frenzied, and when I was on my way to pick up a friend, I listened to my messages.
He called me from his pocket. Yup. I got a 2 minute long message of a lot of rustling, rummaging, and muffled singing.
The worst part of all was that I was SO HAPPY to see that he called, and when I realized that it wasn't a real phone call, I felt like such an ass for being so happy that he called.
I wanted to feel attractive tonight, and I did at first. I had a good time this evening. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE I had a song dedicated to me. By the band that performed it. I melted. I got a lot of compliments, which is always nice, since I'm generally convinced that I look like an ugly hag most of the time. Hung out with friends, got my groove thing on a bit. It was a very good time. I love my peeps, especially my girls. Despite my desire to flirt and maybe even kiss a guy, I came back home early and alone. There's an afterparty, all of my friends are there, and I'm sure it's a good time. But I had a good time, and I'd rather be in bed in time for my hot date with the gym tomorrow morning than to go to bed alone & disappointed tonight.
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