My first class was OK. We watched a boring movie, so basically I signed the roll and left and went down to the library to check my Facebook. My second class we talked about images and how different orientations of visual aids can project a specific mood. Pretty decent if you ask me.
I ran downstairs after class hoping to run into an old friend that I kind of have a thing for, but my hopes were dashed when he wasn't there. Much to my surprise I ran into Jana-boo on my way to work, and we got to talk for a minute. I was pretty glad to see her. We haven't been able to see each other much these days.
My last class was trig, and that was trig-tacular. Not much can be expected from a math class I guess, but we were so caught up in discussing the test next week we didn't have much of a lecture. Woo-hoo!
After that I bolted home, whipped my hair out of the haphazard ponytail I'd created earlier that day, and watched two episodes of my beloved Roswell before my housemate Leslie came in to ask me if I was going to "sexify" myself for the fiesta. Knowing my occasional bad luck with messy food, I explained I didn't want to ruin a cute outfit, and I planned on coming back home after dinner to "sexify" myself after. (We live across the street.)
After refried beans that tasted like burned coffee and massive amounts of queso drowning my poor defenseless tortilla and chips were consumed, and getting in an argument about said bean taste with a kid not worth arguing with, (but arguing makes me feel powerful and alive) I ran into a guy that I've kind of had a mild fascination with that is in my trig class. After a pleasant exchange, he invited me to come to his study group to go over the quiz due on Monday. Without showing too much of my excitement at said invitation, I smiled and accepted. Then Les and I did a mini excited dance in the hallway.
After 20 minutes of Nacho Libre, we headed home to "sexify."
I threw on a cute ensemble, smoked up the eyes, smoothed out the hair, applied an extra layer of rootbeer flavored LipSmackers, and we were out the door.
A guy I recently went out and had a great time with talked me into playing hacky sack, and after realizing I am neither a teenage boy nor a Rastafarian, nor am I in the year 1996, I left the circle. By then he'd invited a few more girls to play, and I wasn't feeling so special after all.
The dance itself was amazing. The dim lighting and loud music lost me in this ecstatic zone of just me, my breath, and dancing. Moving my body to the music, closing my eyes and just doing what I felt. It was beyond great. I stopped caring about how much I was sweating or how hot it was and just got lost in the moment.
I danced with a few guys who were pretty nice, but I think Leslie had the greatest night. She danced with two of the hottest guys in that whole building, one of which she's had a pretty hard crush on for a while.
She was so happy, we went to Denny's and both ate deep-fried goodness until we couldn't move.
What a great night!!
Keep it real readers.
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