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.
image from scarymansion.tumblr.com
Dear Irene, I can relate. Great picture!
I do the same exact thing at parties…everytime! This picture reminds me of a Langston Hughes poem
Suicide Note
The cool clear water
asked me for a kiss…
Less than 20, life of the party..
More than 20, miss you even if you are next to me.
seriously?! oh no! i'm sorry. i'd wish you felt like flying all the time.
crap. and xoxo.