Monday, January 31, 2011

Missoula's a ghost town

When I went out on Saturday, I saw a boy I hadn't seen in awhile. The DJ from 2 years ago. (His story is too embarrassing and an example of a terrible person to be on my blog).

My brother's girlfriend and I booed him when the emcee was talking about him. I know, I'm super mature.

On Sunday, my ex-boyfriend from last year was cleaning tables at the Food Zoo while I was eating omelets with my brother. (Here's his story)

I stuck my tongue out when his back was turned. I'm super mature, did I mention that?

Today, I was paying for coffee at the store on campus and who walks by me but fake Irish boy (His story is three parts. Saga, Part 1, Saga, Part 2, Saga, Part 3). He gave me a half smile as he walked by, as if he didn't deny ever seeing me, let alone sleeping with me last year. I took a breath, turned bright red with the embarrassing memories, paid, and left.
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Orlando was awesome, it wasn't a ghost town. I met boys who I would see one night, and then never see them again. In three days, I've seen three guys who I had hoped to never see again for various reasons. Ugh!

Lame, lame, lame.

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