All right, so yesterday I was complaining about not being a lady, and now, back from an evening out drinking with my girlfriends - who dragged me out on pure emotional blackmail, though -, I'm a student again. I'm starved. I want pasta. I want toast. I want anything that we used to have at 2 in the morning after a night at the pub. I'm hungry, people!
Tonight was lovely.
First because it is nice to pretend that life, every now and again, can be a poor woman's Sex and the City. So beer in the pub can be just as appealing as Cosmo's in the trendy bar, and let it be known.
Second, because leaving as two Cubans, who had made two French guys leave right as they were beginning to annoy one of us, are pulling out all the stops to make all three of us think that we're interesting, clever, funny (beautiful just goes without saying, all right?) and that I certainly make a good friend, a good girlfriend, and a good wife (and I'm quoting. Don't you love the pub? I do.), (where was the beginning of that sentence? at the pub, that's where) is just... great.
But I'm still starved.
Oooh. Spinning.
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