PROM, YO

Last weekend I had prom and...it was pretty amazing and not at all overrated in anyway. I legitimately loved it and it really did go by in a blur. It's weird. I am prone to buying into hype and getting overly excited about things I normally wouldn't because I'm surrounded by people who're getting excited...But seriously. Prom was off the hook.

For dinner they had steak and a ton of vegetables and adorable balls of butter for delicious rolls, so, yeah, good food. The music was of the typical school dance variety, but I did get someone to teach me how "stanky leg" so it was a total and complete success. I wasn't completely clear on the fact that 86% of prom is spent holding your dress up so your boobs don't fall out, but that was the most popular dance move of the night. Nothing gets a group of mid-western teenagers together like Ke$ha, though, who is MY GIRL, so that made for some great (sweaty) dance floor jamming. I'm not really that hard to sway, though; I'll basically eat anything that won't kill me and I will dance to everything.

All in all, I look like a princess and I love it.

After-Prom was at a place basically called Stuff and Things and it was awesome? There were bumper cars, and laser tag, and a rock wall, and air-hockey, and rollerblading, and go kart-ing. And, even though it was 30 degrees, I went go kart-ing and kicked ass. Then: I won a mini fridge. And free dinner and a movie gift cards. And a bunch of body wash stuff.

I made Prom Night my bitch.

Then, after sleeping for six hours, we went to a camping ground? At least, I thought we were going to a camp ground, but in all actuality we weren't camping at all, but rather...cottage-ing? It was an adorable cottage, I'm not complaining at all. It was surrounded by other little cottages and it was right on the lake and it was kind of fancy as fuck. I didn't swim in the lake (I swam in the indoor pool????? not a campground) but I did watch my friends fish, so that counts for something. I spent ten dollars on protecting myself from skin cancer before paddle-boating with a swan. The only problem was I kept hearing Jess Mariano's voice in my head about being beaked. I didn't get sun burnt and I didn't get beaked, the worst thing to happen was I fell off a log, therefore bruising the entire back of my leg and, worst of all, dropping the best s'more I've ever made all over myself instead of in my mouth.

Other than that, overall fantastic weekend.

Lazy May-zy

I was sitting here, watching The Hills, with the open Blogger tab glaring into my peripherals. I glanced at it and could barely stare it in the face. An overwhelming feeling of I can't do this washed over me for a full minute before I realized just how stupid that thought is. It's blogging. Of course I can do this. Why I feel the need to put paralyzing pressure on myself in every single thing I do, I don't know, but that shit needs to stop. I have five drafts right now, started and worked on just in the past eight days. This is BLOGGING; I've done this so much, why am I having such a difficult time this week? I legitimately have a lot to talk about, like the situation in Cleveland right now, with the news of the three missing girls found; I finished my college finals today (!!!); I literally just got a job tonight(!!!!); I've got less than two weeks left of high school; lastly, and most importantly, I met Anderson Cooper.* I've really got a lot going on at the moment.** Still, it's been hard for me to find the words to discuss any of this. This is me pushing through it---or I guess, rather, around it seeing as this isn't exactly a post discussing any of these topics specifically but instead an overview of everything. Lazy lazy lazy. What can I say?...That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out.

It's been 8 days since I last blogged. It feels like so much longer, and yet, 8 days still feels like a lot. Can anyone believe it's already May 8th????! I can't. Happy May, everybody!

*So I didn't get to talk to him or get a picture I saw him and he saw me and we acknowledged each other and I got to personally watch him do news live and it was great
**Especially since I just found this amazing website where I'll have to force myself away from once I have paychecks: http://wwtaylorw.com/

Days left of high school: 10

Goofy and 18

When talking about their pro/con lists for college, Lorelai tells Rory to add "theatre" to the Yale Pro List.

She says, "You'll get to see the next Meryl Streep all goofy and 18 and doing crap like, 'Name an occupation!' Plumber! 'Name a farm tool!' Tractor! Yeah...I'm a tractor...doing plumbing!"

While I'm not planning on being the next Meryl Streep, it's little things like this that make me feel excited to be goofy and young and on the brink of starting something new in my life.*

Mostly, I'm more enthused than ever to be done with high school.

I've never been very good at balance, physical or mental, but I'm determined to be happy and successful and maybe I'll just go get some shoes. New Balance. Hahhhhhhh.


*Where's Zefron?

Boulevard of Broken Pants

I have SO many half-finished posts, reviews, rants, lists. They're just sitting around, sad and incomplete, but I'm afraid they'll have to stay that way for now. The more meaningful and thought-provoking posts will have to wait, cause I just don't have any energy to spare. (Just a quick heads up: I did not re-read this before publishing, so you've been warned.)

Instead, I'll share a lovely anecdote from my day today, a little blip on what otherwise was a coffee-filled day of accomplishing things:

I have an hour in between my first college class and my second and I've taken to spending it in the library/computer center. I go straight from my Lit. class to a computer and I run into a problem. I normally have a coffee with me, whether I bought it or brought it from home, or a bottle of water or some kind of beverage because I'm a human being and I like to have something to drink. Only there's a problem because I don't want to take my open coffee into the bathroom with me but I don't want to leave my stuff unattended in the student center. I'm not paranoid or anything, it just feels weird to me on both spectrums. So, I normally tend to just...hold it for half an hour or so. This study break has become more of a youtube break, since this is the time I usually catch up on Rosi and Zefrank and Lex's videos (somehow I've formed a pattern, DailyGrace/music videos during my HS computer class, really brilliant and insightful videos during my break). Around 1:30, I walk across campus to my Sociology class and drop off my books and beverage at my seat and then go to the bathroom. I don't know why I feel more comfortable leaving my stuff unattended in this classroom, but it's probably just sheer size. I have maybe 35 people in my class? As opposed to how many people can fit in a freaking library/computer lab/student center thang. I'm not worried about anything happening in particular. The only thing that really slightly worries me is the kid who sits next to me every class wears weird hats and is constantly muttering to himself while on his (vibrating) phone.*

This is a fairly normal schedule for me. (I don't have a lot of routine in my life---I actually have basically none at all. Other than this regular little bit I've formed for myself this semester. Indulge me.) Except today, when I went to the bathroom, my zipper decided to break. I still feel a little betrayed and broken, like my jeans but it doesn't help that I BLISTERED MY FINGER TRYING TO FIX IT. I spent a solid 10 minutes pressed up against the stall wall in the LEAST sexy way possible. It was so frustrating and annoying and I actually broke out into a little bit of a sweat. I couldn't help a few groans of irritation that slipped out. It sounded weird from where I was, so I can only imagine how it sounded to my fellow bathroomers. Sorry, guys. In the end, I tugged them up as high on my waist as they'd go, pulled my shirt as low as it'd fall, and that was that for the next hour and a half.

I guess I have to find a way to fix these pants? I just bought these jerks. I don't want to jean shop again for as long as I can possibly avoid it.

*1. WHY DO PEOPLE NOT PUT THEIR PHONE ON SILENT?! YOU ARE IN CLASS. YOUR PHONE IS LOUD. SHUT. UP. IT SHAKES THE TABLE AND IT'S JUST PLAIN UNNECESSARY. STOP.
2. Why even bother coming to class if you spend the entire time on your phone anyway? I don't get it. Take notes or take off. (...it's late, I tried...A little. I tried a little.)

Days left of high school: 17

A Playlist to Feel Better To

Be Ok - Ingrid Michaelson

Strong as an Oak - Watsky

C'mon - Panic at the disco and Fun.

Get Happy - Judy Garland and Barbra Striesand

Warrior - KESHA

The Gambler - Fun.

Dancing in the Moonlight - Toploader

Dog Days Are Over - Florence and the Machine

Woods - Bon Iver

Wild World - Cat Stevens (or the Skins version...)

Stay Awake - Julia Nunes

Days left of high school: 18

QUEEN OF EVERYTHING

Last night's concert was the best ever, ever, ever. Ed's set was perfectly organized, if only too short; Taylor was gorgeous and sweet and on it the whole night. I didn't sit down the entire show, I actually never even made it to my designated seat...

First things first, my mom took me to Walgreens where I bought glitter tattoos, a plain white t-shirt, a huge-ass 4th of July decorative bow, battery-powered lights, and a new red lipstick. I straightened my hair, did my makeup, put on my dress, and wrapped myself in flashing lights. It almost felt like practice for prom? (With the exception of the half hour where a panic attack was a legitimate fear, it was fun! My mom and I had gotten coffee, and while I ordered a large and she ordered an extra large, they mixed them up so I guess I had too much dairy and my throat got really tight and my chest was constricted and I literally felt like I was going to puke and pass out for a little while. Which was awful. I sat on my bathroom floor with a cold compress and a popsicle just trying to breathe for a good chunk of time, which makes the fact that I still looked so good all the more impressive. Boom.) With a playlist queued up on Spotify, and a fistful of bobby pins, I finished attaching the bow meant for a tree to my head and headed out.

My friend Tara and I got to the show exactly as the first act was leaving and Ed was about to go on. In a rush, we found our row and just sat in the first open seats we found without actually checking the seat numbers...Which was fine for the duration of Give Me Love but then the family showed up and we had to embarrassingly excuse ourselves. A few rows lower were two people from my school, sitting on the end of the aisle. We placed ourselves right there in the aisle, which lasted us for the rest of Ed's set. It was really fun because Tara didn't know Ed, but my other friend did, so the screaming and dancing was the perfect way to start off the show. When he was finished, Tara went to investigate why some people were getting fold out chairs on the platform in the section lower than us...and came back to tell us she'd scored us lower seats, too. Tara talked to security and guest services and got us four seats in the section beneath us! (WAHT?!?!!!!) The thing is, I wasn't even surprised. I've known Tara for basically my entire life and this has always been how it is with her. Besides being a wonderful friend, she's extremely handy.

What was really surprising was how much better the view was from our new spot was. We had been in the top section of the arena, a few rows from the back wall--the definition of nosebleeds--so going from row 13 to row 2 was awesome. Especially for standing and dancing without being afraid for my life. Row 13 is HIGH and so seemingly steep it was terrifying. Even in row 2 I nearly fell into the people in front of me a few times...The colorful bruise decorating my shin like a trophy for Out-of-Control Dancing can attest to that fact.

The music between acts was so good, everything was great. Then Taylor came out and I lost my shit. More than once I danced the bow right out of my hair. How could I not with things like:

The dubstep breakdown in Trouble. THE DUBSTEP BREAKDOWN. God, I love that song. The costumes, the choreography, the masquerade theme (with a Hogwarts backdrop, don't even try and tell me the fancy window behind her doesn't look straight out of the castle).

Mean's merry-go-round backround and banjo combination was so fun and cute and infectious. Have I mentioned how well Taylor has perfected the sassy-eyed looks? 'Cause shit, gurl. Not one of the 50,000 people in that audience thought she couldn't sing, and she knew it.

22!!! Moving to the B-stage in the middle, she ended the song on the circular platform surrounded by dancers in like a gangster dance-off setting? Cool.

Then she started talking about a mother/daughter she met at the meet and greet and as soon as the words were out of her mouth I knew I would cry. "Wow. This beautiful bitch. I am going to cry," I declared. And so I did. I'm pretty positive a time won't come when I don't cry at The Best Day. Any song that hits so close to home when it comes to my relationship with my mom and I'm done. Believe it or not, I'd already cried twice to that song that day. (How could you not believe that, though? I have way too many feelings.)

I sang All Too Well until I actually felt my stomach ache. It was perfect.

I wasn't expecting Love Story, and while I normally refer it to it as my least favourite song, it's hard not to love every single thing that happens live in that kind of environment.

For the finale, Never Getting Back Together's set had an Alice in Wonderland feeling, but also a circus? Which was super cool because Tay looked like a combo ring leader/mad hatter, and a totally kickass sparkly goddess making the stage her absolute bitch.

Days left of high school: 18

Thoreau, yo.

The past two days have basically entirely been spent re-watching the third season of Gilmore Girls and working on my research paper for my literature class, of which a rough draft has to be presented to my professor for discussion and review tomorrow. I've got about 5 pages of material right now, only I'm afraid it's going to be a lot harder to pull it all together than it was getting all these thoughts down. It's really helpful that I love the topic I chose: Analyzing "Walden" by Thoreau and the metaphor of people as minxes and wolves. It's interesting to think about and somehow I have a lot to say. The thing is, re-reading my topic proposal I really, really like it. I'm actually a little concerned my paper won't be as good as my proposal. BUT, since I managed to let my mom read my proposal in front of me without physically cringing at all, and I'm busy working on this paper, I figured I could just cheat a little tonight and post from my proposal:

Obviously, scientifically, a minx can never turn into a wolf. It's physically impossible. A minx is a minx and a wolf is a wolf. A minx can, however, act unlike most minxes. A minx can get bit by something rabid, develop rabies itself, and suddenly feel the urge to bite the face off of everything that crosses its path. It could happen; It could become feral. To carry this metaphor on, perhaps it's not infected with disease, perhaps it's infected with knowledge or curiosity. Obviously, most animals, like minxes I assume, do not have the ability to think and feel the way humans do (they lack our emotions and level of consciousness). It would be a lot weirder for an animal to think and decide what to do seeing as they are controlled purely by instinct. Carrying this over to people, let's look at a poor person born into a poor family, generation upon generation living their lives without much hope to change. Perhaps not even much desire to change their status. They get by and they accept that and live their lives so that they feel fulfilled on their terms. But then comes the curiosity, what COULD life be like? What would happen if someone challenged everything in their life to the point where they found themselves to be a completely different person with completely new opportunities? 

There's a lot of privilege that needs to be checked with this idea; not everyone has the comfort or luxury of thinking outside of the box they live in. It could be argued, however, that this day in age, whether you're starving on the street or starving for attention in your own reality TV show, everyone is trying to survive at the base of it all. Everyone wants to be happy. 

While I think it's brave to accept being a minx, that this "cage" is your life, and find ways to be happy and enjoy all of life's fruits on your own terms. Whether by working all day, going to bed at night, and getting up to do it again the next day, by questioning everything, or being happy with the simple life accepting the things you believe to be true. There is also courage to be found in the decision to break down those cage walls you've been born into, the walls they say you'll never be able to breach. A minx cannot become a wolf, they say. But a minx can think like a wolf.

Keep in mind it is just a proposal, so don't be too hard on me if it's not all great ;)

Days of high school: 24