So, on Saturday we celebrated the birthdays of two of my favorite people the only way we know how - with a huge fucking dance party. My girl crushes birthday was on May 7th and my friend D.'s was on Sunday.
I would like you to recognize how smart I was by taking a nice, clean girl group photo at the beginning of the evening, because dance parties get sweaty and dirty in a hurry.
See? Like here, D. and J. and T. all still look pretty respectable and cute.
You know, but then we start the sandwich dancing, because apparently we never get tired of it.
Then maybe someone gets a great idea to stick their head in someone else's shirt and button around it so that it looks like some kind of freakish, sideshow appendage.
And other people start getting surly and flipping me the bird just because I very invasively and annoyingly want to take their picture.
The dance party begins in earnest and we get in the way of all the people trying to play pool.
My nicely straightened hair gets all unraveled and starts curling and frizzing just to spite me.
I'm left by the end of the night trying to figure out my IQ on my two fingers... Or am I counting the brains cells I have left?
Then we get to the "ashes, ashes, we all fall down" part of the evening and the chance to take any nice clean photos of ourselves will just have to wait until the beginning of another night, since this one is essentially over.