After Vida, we decided to go dancing. I love to dance. I never said I was any good at it, but it is maybe my favorite thing to do in the history of ever (well, besides a few other things that are considered more favorite). Going dancing meant joining the 3,000 other crazy people who were out participating in the St. Patrick’s Day bar crawl, which would be okay except – if you’ll please remember – I was still wearing yoga pants, purple Nikes, a hot pink sports bra, and a gray hooded sweatshirt. All of which I had put on at 8:00 that morning. We found our friends in the sea of the 2,992 other people wearing the exact same obnoxiously green t-shirt as everyone else, and the first thing Ashley said to me was: “It’s okay, I have makeup!”. This means that I was looking not so hot in the facial region. But I mean – after a two hour test, a hike across the park, a one year old birthday party, and a patio lunch at a Mexican restaurant, what do you really expect?
So AB fixed my face and we danced some super sweet dances and I talked about my purple Nikes maybe the entire time. As you can see, I even did some quick stretches while at Buckhead. And then we took this gem of a photo:
Sometimes when you wear sunglasses and a hood, you feel invisible and you can dance however you want and nobody can judge you because they can't even see you! Then it was 9:00 and I cried because I missed Rex. What? It just happens sometimes.