Right now the hair is done, the dress is on, and the heels are high. I'm at a school gala with people from the Paper. It's not exactly fun. If it were I wouldn't be reaching for consolation in the blogosphere.
And on my third glass of wine.
Update: SOS and Code Red Alert: the boy I like is here. I haven't mentioned him before because there's nothing to tell (and there still really isn't). But he's just so cute. And tall. And Motown Lover knows him a little. He actually introduced me to him at this function last night--nothing groundbreaking, though, he just smiled and shook my hand before talking to ML for a second. And that was it. I can't lie I was a little dejected he didn't look twice at me. Once again I happened to be in full-on glamour mode [my hair was awesome and my chesteses were out]--if that didn't get a second look, shit, nothing will. Not to mention he came with a girl. Surprisingly (or, sadly, unsurprisingly) that's not what worried me. What worried me was the fact that this girl is frilly and Southern-belle-y and ladylike, and if that's his type, hell, I don't have a whore's chance in heaven with him anyway...
I want to go say hi but...um, we know me. I am shy, dammit.
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