Life’s Just Not that Into Me


Last night was maybe the worst night ever.

During my two-week vacation at my parents’ house in Pennsylvania, I made a pact with myself to not be one of those He’s Just Not that Into You girls.  You know, the clingy, crazy, neurotic types, that can’t seem to comprehend that when you end a date, and your date says “okay, see you around,” what he really means is, “not if I can help it.”

So I had this re-instated Girls Just Wanna Have Fun attitude, and I was really feeling myself about it.  Smiling at strangers in the airport, winking at people on the bus, I was delightfully on top of my game, having fun with life, having fun with boys — in short, living the Kanye West Good Life.  That is, until last night, when the gods handed me the starring  role of ugliest girl at the party.

Went to one bar, no one talked to me. Went to another bar, no one talked to me. This was not helped by the fact that my roomate was just hitting it out of the ball park.  Planting herself firmly on a bar stool, she smiled non-chalantly as her court of suitors flocked adoringly to her feet.  Buying her drinks, laughing at her stories, jostling each other for her attention.  I on the otherhand was left fending for myself, trying not to look too much like that scene in Clueless, where they go to that college party, and Tai is literally ignored by everyone there.  But then I did become Tai, because my roomate Matt came over and, much like Josh, decided to pity dance with me for like half a song, then, he too left me alone in my denim floral overalls, or whatever the hell Brittany Murphy wears in that scene.

Any way, at the second bar, I decided I’d had enough of this scene, and I just got up and left,  leaving my barely drunken PBR (which i ordered against the wishes of the bartender, because you see this was a wine and beer bar, and they have like 50 nice beers on tap, and I went for the PBR since it was only $2 and the bartender, who we have a history with, made a disgusted face, and was all “are you SURE?” and looked really disapproving of me, and shook his head as he angrily placed my can on the counter, while looking lovingly at the fancy pants beer that he had recommended for Caitlin) so yeah, I left my PBR without paying, meaning that the guy Caitlin was talking to probably picked up the tab. Power walking the like 3 blocks to get back home, the fact that I accidentally stiffed them with paying for my drink couldn’t even alleviate my rotten mood. I got back home, threw myself a pity party, vowed to never drink again, then passed out.

And now, the next morning, to top it all off, I might throw up.  Thanks, 2010!

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