Shower. Shave. Shaving takes sooo long. Exfoliate. Lotion. I used the last of my favorite juicy couture lotion because all the other men in life have said they liked it. I should have done a self tanner, but then again, what if I ended up looking like an ooompa loompa?
Blow drying. My arm is getting tired. Oh you're texting me...you're excited for tonight. Me too. I think. I mean, I'm a Celebrity, Get me Out of Here is on, and I have a bottle of cab to finish and I'm already exhausted. But no, no. God, I have so much hair. FUCK. My straightener won't turn on! Oh, it's not plugged in. God, why am I so jumpy? I updated my twitter "hot date"...ughhhh. Shouldn't have done that. Now everyone knows.
Ahhh that's better. This is a good Cabernet for only being $1.99.
Make-up time. Lots of concealer is needed, have I mentioned how exhausted I am? There...I look like myself again. I'm actually pretty. It's amazing what a little Nars Orgasm blush can do. Orgasm. That's funny. Not happening.
The underwear dilemma. Horrendous, cute or sexy? Sexy makes me feel...sexy, but then I might be more apt to do bad things. Horrendous...no, I mean we never know what could happen. Cute. Settling on cute.
Should I text you and have you call me when you get here so I can be outside waiting? Or what if you brought flowers and we have to do that whole thing? I don't have a vase! I should, a girl my age should own a vase. Don't bring me flowers, it's cute but it's just easier that way. I won't hold it against you if you end up being "the one."
I'm waiting. I keep putting extra mascara on and it's getting all clumpy and I am starting to look like that crazy evangelical woman, remember her? Putting mascara down...walking away. My heels click clack across the floor as I pace. Sounds like walk of someone who is hot. I sound like someone who has it all together.
Text! You're around the corner. Butterflies. You are really cute (from your pictures) and over email you're so funny and intelligent and you know the difference between "your" and "you're"...I would totally have your internet babies.
A little more mascara...why the hell do my eyelashes seem to disappear no matter how much Dior Show I pile on? Ok. Ready. I look good.
I just drank the rest of the Cabernet from the bottle. From the bottle? No vase and drinking out of wine bottles. I am a catch.
The door shuts behind me. There you are. Here we go.