I'm ragged as I roll out of Jenny's bed. The remains of my eye make up smeared down my face, and the tell-tale party mark of ink from my hand now imprinted clearly on cheek.
Glitterball 2.0 went down last night, and my fears were confirmed. We were the youngest. It was barely glam but Hair Metal. Not everyone had a good time.
In theory it was pretty freaking sweet... but in the end, more of the kind of thing I'd like to work at than attend. We were far too young... and I don't know what else to say.
The experience was also enough for me to realize that that simply isn't my scene. Of course all through high school I day dreamed relentlessly about it... but really? It's a scene... and it is passed. My Friday nights should be spent in my comfort zone; in my room reading books, or watching movies... maybe occaisionally hitting a concert when aplicable... but nothing crazy.
I don't know. I guess I am indifferent.
Now I have a full saturday spread out before me. Soon I must start finishing Einstein and No God But God. First I am going to eat my breakfast of trail mix, potato chips and gingerale.
I don't feel like changing out of my zebra print pajama pants.
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