ARGH.

For the past year or so I have been bemoaning the lack of dudes in my life to hang out with, forgetting one very important/annoying fact about guy friends — they don’t understand the concept of getting ready. As in, they will be like “HEY LET’S HANG OUT. RIGHT NOW,” while you’re sitting there in your grubby Sunday clothes, hair a big frizzy mess, with no makeup on your face. 

Which would be fine, if we were just like… hanging out at Starbucks or something. Throw your hair in a ponytail, go. BUT NO. DINNER AND DRINKS. WTF. 

Anyway. This is a true story and literally just happened, so I should probably go make myself presentable. 

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