Hunchback Skype chats and "The Dance"

So, here's the thing about the weather in Chicago...yeah. It's cold.

Snow in October. SnOctober. NononononononononononononononononononoNO. STOP. It's OCTOBER. Hasn't this city seen the movies? It starts a week before Christmas, almost ruins Christmas and then it starts magically snowing a beautiful soft snow on Christmas Day. (I've seen a lot of Hallmark movies, I know how snow works.)

I pulled my first official all-nighter this week. That wasn't one of my best decisions. By all-nighter, I mean I drank coffee at midnight, which led to me singing Meet Virginia while prancing around my living room. Because college. So incase you were worried,  I haven't gotten any less awkward. The more I meet people the more I realize that. And I, much like my father, take a long time to process things. Is this something I should be doing? How do I feel about this? While everyone else is like, I don't know, Danielle. It's just lunch, make up your mind! It takes me a solid three weeks to warm up to people and I have definitely implemented the whole, "If you need an answer now, the answer is no." rule. I just really wanted to solidify my reputation as being the 23 year old with the personality of a 74 year old. And that's where I'm at (my motto for right now and the title of the book Scott and I are writing.)

I hate change. I really do. I'm the worst. My parents got a new fence in our backyard about 10 years ago and I'm still adjusting. Which is probably why I have friends for so long. I haven't really grasped that sometimes people aren't meant to be in your life forever. I like to think I'm really good at picking them, so why would I want to see them go? Something I really pride myself on is the ability to maintain friendships. Near or far, I like to think I'm good at keeping up with people, but there's a time when you have to let it go. I'm happy here. Genuinely happy. It's freezing cold, I wear nothing but frumpy sweaters, my dresses are packed away, and I still found my happiness. At some point, I need to realize some people can find their happiness without me. Stings, right? Like, that's not possible. I bring the Christmas cheer and sassy year round, there's no way someone is happy without ME. (Don't pretend you haven't thought it.) Then I realize, I want them to be happy. I want people to feel how I'm feeling, even though 94% of the time I'm really not sure what emotion that is. Hashtag WritersLife.


Also, in a (stupidly unsuccessful) attempt to avoid writing a paper, I got an Instagram. Always fashionably late to the party. Or, I'm there to help clean up...which seems to be the case this time.