Alex and I tried to go out last night. We were dressed up as CEO/Caterer and 80's workout girl (respectively) and everything.
Alas, we arrived at the bar at the same time as the popo.
When you see flashing lights and hear whistles, that's when you leave.
Or, you know, wait around outside and ask people what's going on because your journalistic instincts are taking over.
(Speaking of, I've been published twice in two days. Feeling so culturally relevant right now. Read Post- for my take on terrible teen fiction)
Anyway, eventually we encountered Megan, and the three of us went to East Side market and got ice cream bars. Alex and I were still restless and looking for something to do, but we didn't find anything.
Funny how that happens.
We did see a guy shaving in one of the third-floor windows. I named him Mr. Torso because that was the only section of him that we could see.
I'm not sure why I do these things.
Alex: CLARA! YOUR HAIR! Leave it! I want to take a picture!
Me: Oh god, what's it doing?
Alex: It's coming out from behind your headband... you look like a PREPUBESCENT PANDA!
Clara
2 comments:
umm... eventually you ran into JOHN too! I think this post should also be amended because I am obviously not in your blog enough.
the title of this post is one of the ones that i see, raise my eyebrows, groan under my breath for a couple of seconds, then legitimately laugh. The kind of laughing where you laugh AT it as opposed to laughing at it.
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