Also in March, I saw Rufus in concert. If he liked the ladies, I would totally be his girlfriend. I just know it. He could sing to me every day. Actually, I think it's embarrassing when somone sings to just one other person, so we'd have to sing together -- or not look at each other, which misses the whole point. Honestly. Anyway, here we are at the show. Jazz hands! I'm doing Amanda hands.
Before the show, we went to Teague's first birthday party, where I helped myself to the treats.
This kind of behavior -- along with my new affinity for those nasty little donettes out of campus vending machines -- may just be why I wear the only pants that fit me every day. This is what's wrong with America. Oh, but it feels so right.
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