I have a Latino admirer at work. Awkward. I'm becoming a veritable Kyle Vaughn! I think his name is Jesse, although it might be Ramon. (Is it bad that I can't tell them all apart? I'm sorry, but Orlin looks EXACTLY like Francis!)
Cameron leaves tomorrow--therefore, I am sad. I almost don't want to hang out with him today, because I HATE saying goodbye. Especially to him. It's especially bad because by the time he gets back from New York, his family will have already moved to Texas, which means tonight is our last time hanging out in Concord. I'll miss his house.
I continue to consider the possiblity of filing a sexual harrassment lawsuit against my coworkers, as I continue to get calls of "Sexy girl, sexy Becca" from the 45-year-old ladies in the halls and awkward catcalls from the guys my age. I keep overhearing conversations about me. Only half of it is in English. Since when is being white the only requirement for hotness? Why hasn't this been true my whole life?
1 comment:
We can start a support group if you'd like. :)
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