Life of a teenage creep

So, trying to square dance in new shoes with strange partners!

That's right, gents! Wednesdays' activity for my Mutual group was literally a barn dance.

Yes, I live where people actually have barns. Don't judge.

But, I go, and-- shit, my nose is bleeding. Brb.

Ok, we're good. Apperantly I'm doomed to have blood coming out of my nose all day. :P

Anyway, I get to the barn-y McBarn(don't mock my nicknames for inanimate objects, please) and we get in, and I see -GASP- IggyBrows is there! Like, omgoodness! *valley girl hand-flip* So, They start with lining the boys up in the squares, but I pull an Olivia move, very definitely, and snag my hand out and tag the fine bitch all like "DIBS'D UP IN HERE"

Literally, I tagged him and called dibs. I managed to roll with the punches and teasing. I swear, this was not on purpose, he's just a good dancer and stuff.

I'll have to get a picture of him to post....

Anyway, after calling dibs on a dance partner and getting teased about it, I get to go over and jump in place in the square dance-y thang beside him, richtig? Sorry, right? (Lol, *has been randomly taking in German and carries a pocket German-to-English dictionary around with me*)

Then, I discover, that it's a lot harder to hear instructions in a barn than it is in a gym, probably due to crappy acoustics or something, I try not to think about sound physics unless I'm feeling extra smart (heck, that's always. XD ) , so my group ends up mostly totally failing at this set dance, but we're all laughing and having fun, though, so we're good!(And we got it mostly figured out by the end)

But, the biggest problem with our square? Was that my dance partner ended up being shorter than me. I somehow, ended up by the Pilsbury doughboy, who was half my size(I probably could've put my elbow on his head and retained a declined angle from my shoulder to my elbow. ono), so, you see, there's a very good reason I dance with tall people.

I have a horrible habit of doing my darndest to lead when I'm dancing with someone shorter than I am. I end up going to the right instead of the left, and it didn't help that, apparently, most boys (Darian actually can, though,) can't tell left from right.

Now, if 'swat the flea' is left hand, 'switch hands' means go the other way, and 'box the gnat' is right hand, then if I, with all my lazy-brain genius qualities, can remember this, why can't mister Pilsbury doughboy? Why couldn't my corner? (Though, later on, when I ended up in a different space, my corner was nice. Tall, too! XD Lots of spunk, even if we didn't work exactly right together. ^J^)

So, I ended up wearing those new shoes I was talking about (That make my feet look dainty?) And you know what? One thing I find important in a shoe; grip. Those things have no tread, but it made them a great dancing shoe, I have to say.

Wait. Why am I caring about shoes.

No. Hiking. Falling in mud and laughing over it. Tearing my jeans. Falling down a steep muddy cliff and getting torn up on the raspberry bushes I was trying to reach. Channel the tomboy, Olivia.

Much better. Life back to normal.

Anyway, at one point, whilst my buddy, as mentioned before, @witchkatlover, ended up by IggyBrows' side, I'm sitting there like, "Kat, Kat, switch with me. I can't live like this, he's so short." And she's all "YOLO Let's piss Olivia off, even though I should know by now that she's not someone to fuck with or piss off!", so I ended up dancing with the short mister Chub-Chub. (Sorry, mister Chub-Chub, if you are reading this. You are just so... Let's put it his way, you've very obviously eschewed the aquaintance of puberty for three too many twinkies.), so Kats' just all "Aw, hell, naw, gurl, this is my spot".

I have to give her shit about liking this kid, now.

Anyway, after we've all done the dance party thang, there was ice cream, which, surprisingly enough, IggyBRows did not seem to realize existed.

Apperantly, if a girl takes a boy ice cream, then they're dating or some shit.

I can take a bro ice cream if I want, dammit. I takethe bro , um, what did I call him...Lol, we'll just go with Chris, but I take the bro Chris snacks, because he's all skinny and shiz.

Seriously, it may just be because I was raised, well, you know those plastic kid toys, kinda like the stuff in a McDonalds' playplace? We had some of those, and it was a childish feat in our very young days to be able to life one of those over our heads. I monkey-bar'd until I had blisters covering my hands(literally did that when I was six), and my hermit-brother and I almost always, whenever there's a grocery trip, we have this man-lift contest, seeing who can carry more groceries, or the heavier bag of chicken feed/sugar/flour/oatmeal(which is amazing. I need some oatmeal now...) and such. He actually said that I have, I believe he said something along the lines of, "mMore testostrone than I do" or something.

Bah, I only wish. Boobs suck, majorly, and being a chick is rather hard, though I can see how being a guy could be even harder...

***Short note on walking. 
Walking is hard. And weird, once you take an LSD moment and go 'holy shit my legs, like, take me places, and you move them and they move you, like wow', or when you try to walk when your lower leg is all asleep and it's all swervy and crap, and you take a step wrong and it hurts and you realize that you really are made of meat.
End of note.***

Ok, now, where was I? Oh, some dick tried to tell me that I would be 'further left than the Democrats' if I toojk this stupid test.

Bah. I'm probably on a government watch list for my beliefs. XD

Moving on, what was I talking about... Oh yeah, stuff. Fion and I got to rattle off some Mony Python lines randomly when I came at her with a banana.

Apparently, you get weird looks when you say the exact same sentence as your sister, about killing people who are attacking you with a banana, you get weird looks...

Even I don't have to wonder, here. Lol.

So, that was my Wednesday, all shoved into the nutshell.

@SugarN_Spice, signing off for now.