You know when you are telling a story and it seems like the funniest shit in the world to you and the person you are telling just does not care or get it? Well, I love those kinda things.
I love telling a story and having to say “you had to be there” at the end of it. I just love it.
Like the time me and my friend brought a toaster outside so we could light our cigarettes.
Or the time that me and that same friend walked to the other end of our neighborhood, in our pajamas, in the cold, to bury a dead bird that we found in her backyard.
Or that time where me and that same friend smoked some weed and were on our way somewhere and a song came on and we felt like we were in a reality television show.
Or the time me and my other friend had a rave in my kitchen because I made the best mix drink in the world.
Or the time me and my friend got stalked by a crazy guy because he swore that we cut him off.
Or the time me and my friend made videos acting crazy. (There is a lot of those times)
Or the night I broke my pinky toe because I ran into a wall.
Or this conversation… Me:”Remember what we did for my birthday?” Lauren: “Go to Build a bear?” Me:”No, what we did with those 4 black guys.” Lauren: “There was 4 black guys?” Me:” Yeah, duh. Why do you think we had so much fun?”
Or the night when Jager and truth or dare led to a naked shower party.
Or the day I got really hot to walk around Home Depot thinking that I would run into my ex, but I just looked like a weirdo walking around Home Depot.
Or the time we counted how many times people looked at our boobs.
And also this moment…
We were on our way home from the mall and Santa pulls up next to us.
There are lots of moments in my life that do not make any sense if I just tell you about them. But that is why I love them. No one in this world has my life. No one else besides the people that were there would understand.
“You had to be there” is one of my favorite statements ever.