Long Hair, Don't Care... Too Much

I'm not sure if the "long hair, don't care" is actually from something.. But I'll use it none the less. The picture in this post is from Thursday night. After getting home at about 1:30 in the morning. And oh yes, there is a story that illustrates why I don't care.

Thursday night was the annual foam party at Epic in April, and of course some of my girls and I were in attendance. We repeated the call and message to our speech coach like last year. Found a place to park, locked up our stuff, took a key, grabbed some form of ID and our money and left to finally go dance. Everything went great, except for some of my personal notes:
1. The grenade to attractive ratio was way too high.
2. If you are ugly, this sounds mean I know, but don't ask to dance with me. I come to the club to have fun, hot guys are fun.. It's simple math, really.
3. If I say no, don't follow me around and keep asking to dance. It's not happening.
4. Yeah, that's all I have for now. WAIT! What happens there a. Stays there and b. Is not used to judge anyone. Because I don't know about other people, but I would by far say, especially after this past time, that I am not going to act like my typical self.

Moving on to a, make what you want of it, story. Club closes, we leave. Walk to car, get hit on by drunk creeps at First Avenue. Finally make it to my car. I go to open my car door, guess what!? I have my house key.

Yep, we were stranded on First Avenue around midnight, 4 girls, looking like hot mess hoes because we had just came from the club, with our licenses (aka, legit IDs) locked in the car along with the car keys and all our phones. We then resort to using a stranger's phone (Stranger danger? Yes.) To call my dad, wake him up, and have him drive downtown to provide us with the other car key. After some miscellaneous and frightening adventures lasting about an hour or so, we still don't see my dad. Thus we walk by the drunks outside First Avenue again, talk to the bouncer, borrow his phone and finally are able to connect with my dad.

Key retrieved, we get back to the car and drive home. After 20 minutes of lost city driving. And there is how I wound up home at 1:30 in the morning on a Thursday night.

Back to the long hair, don't care. My hair has nothing to do with this, to be honest. After everything that happened that night... and the next, (I won't lie, a lot is not put on here for numerous reasons), I don't care too much any more. Socially, at least. Judge me, make assumptions, do as you please, because those thoughts are all superficial and simply my actions. Knowing what or who I do doesn't mean you know or understand me. Therefore, I'll be who I am, I'll try to like who I am a bit better and I'll rock that. I won't let what people say bring me down, cliche as it is, "people throw rocks at things that shine." And darling, I'm something that won't ever stop shining.