bestie jen and i had a day downtown planned for today.
earlier this week we agreed to see paranormal activity 3 - a tradition 3 years running, you know.
we knew how it would go - the same as all the other years, and we were prepared for it.
we'd cringe, hide, squirm, cover our eyes, forget to breath and this time - we thought it may send bestie jen into early labor.
to remedy it, jen suggested {i'm sure so bravely} that we make a double feature of it and see footloose, too.
A LOVE STORY ABOUT DANCING.
WITH A SLEEZEBAG LEAD ACTRESS.
making my position very clear - the position of putting into practice the art of "it's not always about me" - i agreed to go, hoping karma would pay off somehow and gift me something wonderful for having to sacrifice my time to endure something so horrible.
and then today, as if someone clued bestie jen into way the world operates, she said, "um, let's not see footloose. let's go to anthropologie instead."
and the choir of angels sang.
so i got:
a delicious lunch
a super scary movie
and 2 new plates for the plate wall
and i didn't have to give even the price of a matinee ticket to support julianne hough.
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