we bash people we secretly admire
throwing on thrifty skinny jeans and deliberate tunics
vintage sunglasses leading us
to the local applebee's
sipping sugary pitcher margaritas
grlz pregaming facilitates meaningful discussions
we oh so confident in our hipstah gear
those aber-zombies don't got nuthin on ushead to da club
where we scoff at popular mainstream tunes
once in a while indie bloghouse blasts
we clap with joy and git up to dance
mouthing the lyrics to the songs, fake-lip-syncing for the parts we don't know
whispers and giggles
a mediocre boy approaches our friend
the virgin pro-lifer in the 50's dress
she doesn't smoke our hand-rolled cigarettes
the night will end when
our average boyfriends don't respond to our sexting
stumble back home and warm up leftover pizza
we convince ourselves-- what a great time!
i wake at 3AM and run to the b-room
vomit
i flush the contents of the night down the toilet