One girl. One college. Three thousand guys. This blog is a blow-by-blow [yes, that was a dirty pun] account of the social (and usually sexual) misadventures of a commitment-phobic and ironically promiscuous virgin.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

scorned.

So Courtney ditched me. The party started an hour ago and I have been trying to get in touch with her for the last two. I am all dressed up, I want to leave, but I absolutely do not want to go to the club by myself. I texted my Eastern European and if he'll come meet me, then I'll go, but I just think it's a bad idea to show up to a gentlemen's club by yourself. I mean even if I know some of the guys inside, I still don't want to make it obvious that I am alone. It's part precaution and part pride.

I am actually really pissed. If she had told me earlier I could have found someone else to go with. Now it's 1:00 in the morning and clearly anyone that's going out tonight is already out. Now it's Friday night and I am really unhappy, looking cute, and sitting in my room.

Not to mention Nik never texted back. Yesterday was like a manic high and tonight is just a low. I had such high expectations for tonight and now it seems like everything has just kind of fallen to pieces.

Blah. I think it's time to get out of my dress, turn on some Avril Lavigne or other laughably angsty chick rock and try and fall asleep.

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