in which i have a life

last night, Erika danced with a hipster. She grabbed him by his suspenders. HIS SUSPENDERS. This is the quality shit that sitcoms are made of (too bad no one makes sitcoms anymore. I could totally write one).

to any kind souls that read this, my instagram is @debbiele03. I'm not very interesting, though, so don't bother.

anyway, that got me thinking. White boys (and girls, sorry) really can't dance, can they? I mean, I realize that is a pretty gross overgeneralization, and I think white people are cool and all, but come on. Get with it! Us, on the other hand, Erika and her Latina friends and me with my half Middle Eastern-ness and Costa Rica growing up-ness, we were just totally killing it on the dance floor.

it felt good to feel young for once. I should try it more often.

(it also felt good to discuss moving to the West Coast. Erika's in Los Angeles, which to be honest I'm not remotely interested in, but I do have my eyes set on California...hm)