Sometimes I like to walk down the street, listening to some sunshine-y She & Him song, "Sweet Darlin" or "I Was Made for You" depending on my mood, gently sashaying my hips, and pretend to be Zooey Deschenal....or as lovely as her character in (500) Days of Summer, minues the ice queen factor.
Then, other times I like to stand in my room, blaring "Badlands" and air guitaring rigidly, and pretend that I'm Bruce Springsteen playing a show for thousands of New Yorkers at Madison Square Garden.
Next, I enjoy dancing around my room like a mad person, with my left hand behind my back, making ridiculous faces, pretending I'm Brendon Urie surrounded by the screams of girls nearly half his age dying to sleep with him....not that I want that, but it's an interesting feeling.
Anyway, it was just last Friday (cue the Rebecca Black, "It's Fridayyy, Fridayyya, Fridayya) I realized living my own life is pretty entertainnig. Screaming over drunk people awkwardly at Mexican restuarants, driving around blaring Beyonce, sprinting through the parking lot at Giant Eagle in 3 inch heels away from the car we dented with our passenger door, and generally freaking out passerbys by the sudden leg that just appeared in the backseat window of that parked car sound lame to everyone else, but, hell, I'm having way too much fun.
Even if it is the only fun I have all week.
A certain essay dinasour -ahempoulakosaurus- swallowed me whole in assignments. I'm taking a break and jamming to Vices & Virtues for the thousandth time....I'm in love with Panic! at the Disco to such an extent that I basically fangirlgasm every time I hear one of their new songs. And my face looks something like this.
I'm so ready for this...and by this I mean everything.
Everything, everything, everything.
Peace, Love, and Rock n' Roll
"Trade Mistakes" - Panic! at the Disco. Hellz to the yes.
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