Confessions Vol. III

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

- ideal Friday night? The above, always. Add some episodes of Friends (how am I just now discovering the wonderfulness that is Joey, Ross, Rachel, Chandler, Monica, and Pheebs?), fuzzy socks, and mac n' cheese...literal perfection. 

- I am not a cheesecake person. At all. Just the thought of it makes my stomach clench...I think because it's just so.much.dairy and I can't handle that. Also, I'm a carb person, so the idea + actual process of eating something sweet that's just creamy and too rich is...bleh. (Let it be noted though that I adore ice cream and am generally fond of pudding. I know, I'm a hypocrite.)

BUT I can and always will eat any cheesecake with chocolate. That's the only way I can stomach it. And Olive Garden's Black Tie Mousse cheesecake? Bae. But only because it tastes like mousse, not cheesecake. 

- I have developed a strange dislike of guys holding doors open for me. It's a bit absurd, but there it is. It's not that I don't appreciate them being a gentleman, but for Pete's sake, I'm strong enough to open a door and it's okay if I hold it open for you too. My philosophy is whoever gets to the door first should open it - whether it's the guy or the girl. None of this "Oh, I shall refuse to walk through the door until you, a lady, go through it first." BOO. Just go through the dang door. 

- men in flannel...holding babies? Stop. Just please stop, because that is my Achilles heel. 

- I recently realized I haven't been on a date in years. Three years to be exact. What. Which then lead to the realization  that I don't remember/know anymore how to act on a date. What do you do? What do you say??? How much flirting is too much?!? 

The struggles.  

- we're not going to talk about the obscene lack of sleep that I've suffered from for the entire past week. We're also not going to talk about how I am old and just want to nap for a year and it's been killing me to run on fumes but between midterms, traveling out of town for a conference, and having to get up early, it's just not been a good week.

I'm sorry, body. I really, really am.

- during the first few weeks of the semester, when all of the freshmen boys are going crazy because COLLEGE and ALL THE GIRLS everywhere they looked, I ended up in the same conversation with a few of them. 

Freshman guy: (trying to be nonchalant and cool) "So, what are you - a sophomore?"
Grace: 
Grace: (blinks stoically) 
Grace: "I'm a senior."
Freshman guy: (sudden look of horror like a deer in the headlights) 
Freshman guy: "Ohhhh.... (Laughs weakly while edging away - 'OMG OMG OLDER WOMAN BACK AWAY BACK AWAY, THIS IS NOT A DRILL REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL') That's cool." 

Throw in the fact that I'm a year older than most seniors (I'll be 23 next semester) and I can't help feeling bad for the poor, stricken 18-19 yrd guys who gamely try to strike up a conversation. Poor little dears

previous Confessions: Vol. I, Vol II. 

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