I am a runner. No, I haven't been running since Thursday night or whenever that was, although I will go today (hopefully), but I am a runner. I find myself in situations and then I run.
Last night I am hanging with a new group of kids and I get super awkward in new situations. Some people find my awkward really endearing or they think that I am not so awkward and that it is super cool and other people take my awkward as jack off. I don't like the last one since I promise you I am pretty far off from a jack off (most days).
Well last night I am thrown into this new situation and I realize that I am quite opinionated and I was told that apparently I need people to do things for me aka I am a control freak and it is either my way or no way. I blame my mother for this. Because of her I think that there is only one way to do things and that one way is not only the right way, but it is also my way. Poor lady. Her new husband was driving and she says, "I wouldn't have gone this way." Translation- Why the hell did you go this way?! It is wrong. Not only was his way not the wrong way, but it was actually less out of the way than the route my mother would have taken. So not only do we think we are always right, but we are more often times not. I have found myself in similar situations. People can't even peel potatoes around me. I have issues. Admittance is the first step. I believe I am making progress.
Who invented skittles in a cup? Terrible invention. Tasty, but terrible. Shwasted and shmammered (nearly) after two cups of that. That is called a problem. Who's idea was that? And my poor friend, Tiny Tim that she is, Tiny Tim should have no cups to half cups, but not two cups. Just an observation-if you weren't aware, I am trying to come away from the 'just saying' since I say it ALL the time, but back to the cup o skittles. Damned things had me running away since I was blithering and blathering about nonsense about who knows what and I am sure that if I were 647, which I usually am, I would find me very entertaining. That may be part of it. I also felt extremely not in the mood for strip clubs and there was a rumbling in my belly.
I did say strip club, which I later found out was closed? I place a question mark there as I can not believe that a strip club would be closed as no matter the season there are always lonely or not so lonely, but pervy horny men who would much rather escape into dimmed down lights where they could, but are encouraged not to, touch the women that they will touch themselves too. They aren't on the tv which makes them much more attainable and why would someone close a place like that? Men need a get-a-way too and they don't have many men friendly spas. Just saying. I guess that guy won't go away.
Well as I was blabbering, the thought came into my head that I would much rather be in my bed than looking at tricks on a pole-hilarious since the people do tricks, but some might call them that. Funny by accident. The best way to be. So, from this realization I decided that it was time to go and so I ran. I ran home and it wasn't until this afternoon when I groggily awoke from the depths of a deep and unfulfilling sleep that I was questioned as to my whereabouts. I felt bad at first, but then when I was told that while the boys ventured into the agreed upon destination, filled with hood rats, which apparently is a difficult thing to define, the girls stayed behind and found themselves asleep in the vehicle. Who does that? I have decided that in my old age I am unhangable. I have also realized that it happens to the best of us.
Now last night, there was a topic of conversation that just could not be settled and I realize that I may also be a nasty lady (as in rude not loosely). This hood rat thing, which I find to be synonymous with a Buffalo girl. Well there was this one character there and he decided that he didn't want to agree with anything that I had to say, I think mostly for entertainment value, which I grossed at $0. Apparently we didn't agree on much. Well everyone is talking about these girls and hood rat and Buffalo girls (stereo-typically speaking) and I must admit they exist. Mid-definition which was originally playful in manner, character boy decides to let me know that aren't I a Buffalo girl being a female residing in Buffalo? Well, no. That is not what distinguishes a Buffalo girl from other females as I am clearly making a distinction that to me wasn't seemingly as simple as residency and gender.
Right, did you hear the nasty lady in there? I don't know where she comes from sometimes. I think stupid people make her think it is ok to come out and play. I should tell her otherwise.
I was then later told or rather asked why I wasn't a Buffalo girl?, because I dress a little differently and don't talk a certain way? Well, no again, not quite character boy. I wouldn't classify myself as a Buffalo girl because I am an individual, not a cookie cut out. I also am not satisfied with being pacified by the ideas that run the streets telling me that I need to act like I don't have thoughts in my head that will lead me away from the bull and down the road to success. I also don't need to take out my bamboos once a week to go whoop some other girl(or guys) ass. I also don't chew gum like it may be the last piece of gum I will ever see in my lifetime and I do have better things to do than go out and get the latest sneakers and then a matching purse, hair color, and or belt. My discussions revolve around more than how some girl was giving me the stink eye. I know that this may sound a certain way, but it isn't like that. Hard to explain.
Whatever. Going to kill myself running. I hate running. Eff.
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