after last night, it’s no longer a question of probability. it’s official: we are old. something we have learned to accept and laugh off because the idea of actually being surprised as to why the bars are still packed with people at 1 in the morning is so funny.
a million years ago, weren’t we a part of that early morning crowd? taking the cue to go home only when the dawn cracks and sunlight starts piercing the clouds, into our bloodshot eyes? nursing sore vocal cords after another sleepless night wasted on buckets of red horse and horrible videoke sessions?
now everything’s smooth and
geriatric generic. simple dinners are the way to go. (it’s easier on the joints.) last night’s girl bonding at the social café consisted of a few slices of pizza (aptly called “three little pigs”), a couple of pieces of chicken, several potato wedges, a glass of margarita, and a whole lot of selfies.
and maybe a bit of videoke for old times’ sake before calling it a night.
regardless of how the scenario has turned out — and will turn out over the next few years, one thing will always remain constant:
i will always and forever love these girls to death. even to the point of shamelessly applying falsies right in the middle of the mall where human traffic was heaviest. (because somebody snipped off the tips of her lashes hoping it would grow long, like babies’ do. lol.)
one of the major perks of getting old?
no longer giving a f*ck. =)