Turning pages between articles, I clued in to the chatter happening between four nineteen-year-olds a few tables over. It's like I was caught in Mean Girls, but instead of laughing at the catty banter, the jabs were aimed in my direction. Seriously? Seriously?
Not sure if you've noticed, but I try to keep this blog positive and upbeat. I shall continue with that trend now.
Reasons why it's good to be me, alone in a pizza joint on a Friday night:
- I have a real job with real responsibility (and a real paycheck!). Yes, it kept me working late this evening, but at least I won't spend my Saturday folding shirts at Wet Seal.
- I don't have a payment plan for my car, my University of Phoenix school loans, or my Sidekick.
- I know how to cover my lady parts (on both ends).
- My next stop will be Target; a store in which I could walk into and buy any thing I wanted. Any thing. Tonight, it's a book (low maintenance this go round as I already own the rest of the store). That's right. I also know how to read.
- I've been west of Worcester.
- Mine are real.
- I can afford to have my dental work done.
- --censored for positivity--
- This is a real tan; from a long weekend spent at a rental house on the Cape with my girlfriends and Saturdays (not folding shirts at Wet Seal) at the beach.
- I'm perfectly happy being alone; I had opportunities to go out this evening but I chose to save my strength for my wicked fun, non-white trash Saturday activities. Woot.
Dear Mean Girls, get a life. One of these days you'll wake up and realize you want to grow up and be me.
7 comments:
I think the thing I find myself most often repeating in my comments on your blog is "man, you have a good life." It's the freakin' truth!
If those girls had any idea... they'd be begging just to be your friend. Or even just your salesperson at wet seal. Wait, you don't shop at wet seal, you're way to good for that. What what.
Hello! I want to be you! Worcesterettes had NO idea who they were dealing with. Sitting in a crappy pizza joint on a Fri night and talking about someone else is a big indicator of how pathetic your own life is. If only they knew.
Oddly enough, I watched mean girls last night.
Ok, let's go to the beach.
Sounds like those girls are total buttholes, because you freakin' rule and anybody with eyes can see that. I bet blind people get it too, they'd just feel the vibes.
real what?
it's a good thing my name isn't wes right? because in provo, i am part of that crew of byu grads who heads off to business/dental/medical/law school. haha.
i think if it were an arizona blog, the husband's name would be:
brad/david/eric/cody (BDEC)
because i have bunches of those names in my phone.
:)
AAAAA! Best post EVER! I feel sad for those sorry, pathetic little girls. And I want to know what #8 is.
Take it from a 19 year old, they'd want to be you. I want to be you.
And ditto to Alaina's comment!
this gets funnier everytime i read it. brenda and i were quoting your Target line last night and howling.
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