(no subject)
Uh...so ok. This is my attempt at updating. Hmm. Uh...yeah.
Why is that some people are so good at this journal shit? What is the secret? Why won't they share it? Stingy bastards. I have no idea what to put in this damn thing.
I hate shopping. And fashion. The men in my life are more girly than I am. It's really quite sad. Well, actually no. I like it and somebody has to care. That way I don't have to worry about stupid things like patterns and colors, that's their job. Yay to girly men! Right now, two of them are having a fashion-war of sorts over what outfit I should wear to my Salsa Show Extravaganza. It's hilarious. I don't think they trust each other's fashion judgement and typing that makes me want to cry with laughter. The one bought a skirt and the other is going to buy a shirt....hopefully they will meet in the middle somehow and form a whole, decent-looking outfit. That or I'm going to look like a hobo. That is if they don't kill me first with this Try this on! bullshit. Trying on clothes ranks right up there with eating glass. It's just as painful anyway. They don't make clothes for women who eat, glass or otherwise. Everything today is either see-through or skintight and uh...no. Just no. Just. No. Do you hear that you two men, just no.
Why is that some people are so good at this journal shit? What is the secret? Why won't they share it? Stingy bastards. I have no idea what to put in this damn thing.
I hate shopping. And fashion. The men in my life are more girly than I am. It's really quite sad. Well, actually no. I like it and somebody has to care. That way I don't have to worry about stupid things like patterns and colors, that's their job. Yay to girly men! Right now, two of them are having a fashion-war of sorts over what outfit I should wear to my Salsa Show Extravaganza. It's hilarious. I don't think they trust each other's fashion judgement and typing that makes me want to cry with laughter. The one bought a skirt and the other is going to buy a shirt....hopefully they will meet in the middle somehow and form a whole, decent-looking outfit. That or I'm going to look like a hobo. That is if they don't kill me first with this Try this on! bullshit. Trying on clothes ranks right up there with eating glass. It's just as painful anyway. They don't make clothes for women who eat, glass or otherwise. Everything today is either see-through or skintight and uh...no. Just no. Just. No. Do you hear that you two men, just no.