sometimes my best friend steve and i are like two little j.a.p. princesses trapped in our own little world together. i'll catch us, mid-conversation, and realize that we have just spent a half hour talking about what kind of pockets on jeans make our asses look good. my fiance is so happy that i have steve in my life because steve does and talks about all the things with me that he would never want to. steve and i are constantly shopping, gossiping, watching reality t.v., talking sex and the city and going on movie dates. it's really so great to be around him because i never have to censor myself or worry that i look "ditzy" or "shallow" because he's just as much into the things that i'm into. the other night i bought the paris hilton "confessions of an heiress" book and we read it together over applebee's onion peels. who does that? here is a recent online conversation of ours, to roughly pinpoint what i mean about our oblivious clueless-style best friendship: "steve": what are you doing tonight "myself": i'm dying my hair right now design by bluechicken previous����next |
die live profile dland |