Today, I am wearing leggings. As pants. Suck it, fashion police. I've been feeling sick all week and I've worn all my Nike shorts and so leggings were my comfy attire of choice. It's okay though, because regardless of what some Victoria's Secret employee told me, my ass is about as saggy as Adele is over her ex boyfriend. Important note: she was an employee, not a model wearing the Angel wings. My point: I can wear leggings as pant and turn more heads than Janet Jackson at that infamous nip-slip Superbowl. Now that I've defended my attire...
I've been meaning to blog about this for a few days now, but it always slips my mind when I sit down with an open draft. Not today! What is this very profound and amazing thought that I'm so eager to share with you? Wait for it... wait for it... Okay, it's really not that profound at all. Apparently, I'm a huge flirt. Like, it's a serious issue. Since when did being friendly get classified in the "flirt" category? I really never noticed it. Like, yeah, I would strike up conversations with guys randomly and get bought plenty of free drinks at the bars, but I really just thought this was all due to my striking good looks. I thought the cute boys in class asked to join my groups because I'm incredibly intelligent. (Okay, I actually gave that one to my striking good looks, as well). Apparently, it's because I'm flirting. I swear guys, this whole time I thought being nice and personable was called being friendly. Guess I should have asked for a Webster's dictionary for my birthday.
I'm really not complaining. My boyfriend told me today that he is well aware of my flirt tendencies. He's a ladies man himself. It works for us, because we have this thing in our relationship called trust. So many of my peers seem to see problems with us trusting each other. I think they're the ones with the problems, to be honest. It gets to a point where I feel a little guilty that I'm apparently leading on the male population. When in reality, I could have sworn half of these guys are well aware of that guy called my boyfriend in my life. Maybe they just don't care. If I accepted every lunch, Starbucks, Diet Coke, or Adderall offer from these guys, I would probably be caffeinated and fed for a good month. I simply can't do it, though. Part of me thinks "hm, maybe they're just being nice, like I am," but then the common sense in my head knocks me upside the brain and yells "obviously they want to see you naked, ya tart." I've gotten very good at politely declining food and beverage offers. I will not, however, say no to class notes or a study guide. Sorry, nerdy N wins out on that one.
I guess my question is: can guys, with their phallus-shaped second brains, really be nice with honest and innocent intentions like girls can? Or am I a rare breed, confusing flirting with friendship?
Love, (but not in that way)