Dear Diary,
Let it be officially confirmed that I have hit panic mode. I'm having the hardest time deciding which of my twelve pairs of jeans will look the cutest. And I texted Mom to see if she could come for a late night last minute haircut. I should have anticipated this. And I sort of did. This is about the time after a haircut when it begins to feel awkward again. It won't do what I want it to do because it's too long and thick. But if I try something else, it's too short, so I am panicking. (Is that supposed to be spelled with a k?)
Anyway, there's no reason for it at all, because Radar has known me for over ten years, now I believe. And he has seen me at my worst. (And loved me through that). So why do I quarrel with myself over how exactly I should arrive at the airport when he picks me up? And that is basically a rhetorical question because we all know that regardless of our history, this is another "first impression" ...at least since I saw him in May. And I want a reaction that I read about in stories and novels when a guy sees, for the first time, a girl he's known all his life. That's what I'm going for.
But part of me thinks it's just to have the upper hand. What about the kind of impression he makes on me? Will I not consider that? Perhaps it's better to think about it as though he has to win me over, not the other way around. But that's a harder attitude to achieve sometimes.
At any rate, in this side of 24 hours, I will be off to dinner and a movie in the passenger seat of his Mustang. And that's what tomorrow holds...(after that pesky work day of course)
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