Sometimes, I get really, really worried that no guy will ever love me. And I sit here thinking: "well, why?" And then I remember I'm sitting here watching weird movies with my hair in Baby-Spice pigtails and hugging my new giraffe-shaped pillowpet that I have named Roranicus Pondicus (affectionately called Rory) and I'm like, "THAT'S WHY!"
And then I have a random midnight dance party with my suitemate that looks vaguely like:
But a bit more ridiculous and then I’m like:
But then when she leaves I take my pigtails out. Because I still worry.