I love a good party. Birthday parties are the best. Especially my birthday party. But any party will do, really. As long as there's cake. Or peanut butter pie. The worst, though, is having a party that no one comes to. I tried to throw myself a party today. A pity party. No one came. Then it hit me... pity parties would be so much more awesome if a few other people will show up. Consider this your invitation.
Let me start at the beginning. Rob got Jes a Kinect for Christmas, along with a really groovy dancing game. It plays a song. Breaks down the moves. Has you feeling like a pro in no time. I'm sure you've seen the commercials. I caught on pretty fast the first time I played. I got 4 stars! Then Jes pointed out that I looked like I was doing a working out instead of dancing. What can I say, we can't change what we are.
Since I've obviously mastered the dancing game (one could even go as far as calling me a hot dance biscuit), I played a new game
today yesterday. A sports game. Track and field, to be exact. I was running hurdles when the accident happened. I threw my arms back to jump a hurdle when--OWWWWWWW!--I jammed my finger into the arm of the couch. Don't ask me how it happened, all I know is that one second I was in first place and in the next I was crumpled on the floor in pain. My sisters didn't care one single bit. They laughed at my pain. They said I was being dramatic (Dramatic? Me?). As I was wallowing around in agony, trying to make the best of a bad situation by hosting a little party, they rolled their eyes and looked the other way. They didn't even care when it started to swell. I wasn't looking for some serious sympathy, just an acknowledgement of my intense, not-at-all exaggerated pain. Nothing.
All that to say, there's plenty of room at the party if you wanna come. No cake, but I can guarantee lots of dancing! Luckily, dancing, unlike typing, doesn't hurt my poor-little-jammed-finger.