Piggy

Last night Ryan invited some friends to join him in his company’s suite at the Bobcats stadium.  Who knows who the Bobcats played, or if they even won. 

Clearly, I was not on the friend invite list. Apparently I’m not tall enough to make the cut (have I told you about how Ryan only hangs out with giants?). But that’s okay because this little piggy stayed home and painted her nails with Ashley. The nail painting was actually a disaster, and I am actually not a piggy. (Except for when I eat half a bag of York Peppermint Patties, which I did. In fact, next year, I think I am going to hole punch the wrappers and hang them from my Christmas tree. I love them.  I also love the word piggy.)

After the game and the nail painting disaster, we took a cab to Kazbas and met up with the four studs pictured above. I never thought I would live in a city where I could just walk outside and get in a cab that will take me to my destination. I guess I technically don’t live in a city that I can do that, but it is nice that I am in love with someone who does. And also someone who will go get me nail polish remover at 7:30 am on a Saturday. (Yes, that really happened).

And then I walked home in my argyle socks and Ryan made fun of me.  But we still lived happily ever after.