It's all good, I know what you meant.

I went to lunch today with my brother (Greg) and his girlfriend (Chrissy). They picked me up at work and we went out to Taco Bell, because duh Taco Bell is the food of the Gods, well the Gods and poor folk like me.

Moving on- When I walked out to their van I pushed my face up to her window making weird and inappropriate faces, like always. Then I got in and she turned around looked me up and down and then stared me in the face. This conversation ensued.

Me: What the hell is wrong with you? You look like you just seen Jude Law or something. Chrissy: You do realize that you're the only person that would be happy about seeing Jude Law, right? Me: Ahhh...he's amazing and you should mind your tongue lady. How dare you blaspheme the Law! Chrissy: My bad, I forgot that I was talking about your future husband. Me: It's ok, you're forgiven and still have a place in our wedding. Chrissy: But no, I was just gonna say that you look really pretty. Me: Uhh...thank you. Chrissy: You're welcome. Seriously, you look really nice today. Me:...Thank you.

{{By the way Greg had me try that new Mountain Dew crap, I think it's Sangria or something, and I took one sip and politely informed them that it tasted like oompa loompa piss. Because it SO did. I'm not even lying a little bit. It's so disgusting!!}}

I was confused for a minute. I was all- "What's with the compliments? Have the pod people taken Chrissy? I wonder if Jude Law would be easy to track down. FOCUS, KATIE". And then I realized something. Chrissy has never seen me on a workday before seven pm. She's only seen me late at night and on the weekends. Do you know what I look like on the weekends? Well, I wear no makeup, I'm always in some form of sweats and/or ratty/Batman/Hogwarts shirt, constantly in my glasses, and have my hair pulled on top of my head into a messy bun. And my messy bun is nowhere near cute like all these other girls messy buns. When I say messy bun I mean, I haven't brushed my hair and haphazardly tried to pull it directly on top of my head so it won't fall in my face.

Basically she's never seen me not look like a freaking' hobo. And not cute little "hobo chic". I'm talking straight up hobo. I literally could've worn a red trash bag to work and if I had a little blush on and hairspray in she probably would've thought that I was trying out for a pageant. So the lesson here? Well, thank goodness only my family and complete strangers see me on the weekends and I have no boyfriend, because I AM A MESS. But I love it. Me, my awkwardness, my style (or lack thereof), and my personality.