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Girl’s Night

I have no idea who is making it to Girl’s Night tonight. AM bailed out early, if you can even call it that. She doesn’t like being around drinking when she’s pregnant. Umm, okay. Cop-out it sounds like to me, but who knows. Maybe it’s not hard for me becuase I got pregnant at 17 while still in high school, lost most of my friends, and have not partied since. I’m turning 25 now. My glory days are long gone. But this is the same AM that went to the movie’s with my boyfriend in high school and I found out about it through her mother. (Thanks, JT, for that reminder.)

I doubt XT will be showing up because she’s got to work tonight. That’s fine (although I hate you for it, I’m okay with it!), pretty much.

If I could go back to the point in time where I stopped calling my friends and seeing them on a fairly daily basis, I would go back and never stop calling. Damn texting. We’re going to be the very last generation who recalls getting their first computer, first cell phone, etc. Our kids will never know how obnoxious it will be to call their friends and get a fucking busy-signal from the other line.

Technology is ruining us. Our kids don’t know anything anymore, they’re too busy Google-searching about sex and bombs and suicide. I’ve learned first-hand that if you spank your child, DFS will show up at your doorstep.

I’ve been thinking about writing a letter to me. Seems to be the trend lately.

This post is all over the place.

Back to the original story. Girl’s Night. At this point, I don’t care if it’s just me at the bar at TGI Friday’s. I am going out, husband-less and child-less, and I’m having a drink. Whoever meets me there along the way, great. KL has a birthday party on the Landing (Hell no, I cannot survive the Landing), and JF is out killing deer (or, attempting to, given the freaky 80° weather).

Can’t decide what to wear. I’m thinking jeans, heels, and a white crop tee with my burnt orange cardigan.

Cardigan… am I allowed to wear those being only 25? Is this even an acceptable outfit? Can we please just go back to straight-legged jeans and glittery jelly sandals, please? I remember when I used to take the bottom of my shirt and pull it through my collar. Retarded, but Lord knows I can’t do that now! Guess it’s time to hit the gym.

Come to think of it, I’m going to ditch the cardigan. If I can’t find something cuter to wear, I’ll dig-out the tube-top I wore to the Miranda Lambert concert.

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