parties give me a turn.

although i have every intention of belle-ing it up, by the fourth round of it’s kind of like pilates, i’m ready to lie in front of the next oncoming speeding train. i can’t remedy this anxiety. i’m most certainly a social person. i can’t love enough on the men and women who bag my groceries. the secrets spilled during my venti drip acquisitions would make you blush (dylan at peet’s i own you for life)……….baristas are fabulous raconteurs.

but why is it at a party twenty plus, no matter how pretty my dress, i end up tucking away (usually with a dog), or leaving early feeling rotten, blue, and incompetent.

i envy you butterflies who’s wings expand with the crowd.

we went to an engagement party this weekend. dear friends. practically family. my heart did a toe-touch i was so happy to see them. an hour later i was looking for a bed to hide under.

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