Tomorrow's my boyfriend's birthday.
I was planning to meet him early and go tramping around the woods. I was planning to bring him a cheap cake, hug him, and give him a first special birthday in many years. I was planning to make out till I was SO out of breath that I wouldn't be able to stand on my two feet. I was planning to look pretty. I, was planning, ALOT of things.
I was so looking forward to this day. I was going to bunk my Nazi college. I was planning to gift him a diary and a book. I was planning to sit by the river and laugh raucously at his lame jokes. I was planning to meet his lame best friend and his virtuous girlfriend. I was planning to come back with a lovely, warm, fuzzy feeling that seems to have become very characteristic of me in these last few days.
BUT fate intervened. My love (pun, pun.. he's not really meluv yet) turns 22 this year, and he does not have the "permission" to get out of the house before 12 and has a 9 pm curfew. Um, excuse me?! Curfew? At 22?
Gosh, it's annoying. All my plans are dumped. I'll go to college. Meet this guy sometime later like it was any other day...
I'll have to do something to cheer him up though. The guy sounds completely distressed.
Oh wait. He just called. We won't meet at all. I hate parents sometimes..
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