(no subject)
Alright so this journal is BACK IN ACTION! Although I'm not that excited about it really. I got some prom night pictures developed and that's probably the only real justification for undeleting this thing. Because I like pictures.
That's me and my date Mike before we left. He had a swim meet that day and was waaaaay late because of it; he "blow-dried" his hair out the window down 280 and didn't even have time enough to put on his vest, tie, or cufflinks. Meanwhile I sat around growing increasingly irritable, but as soon as Mike arrived and finished dressing and my mom had gotten her little picture-taking fix we left and after that I felt much better.
I had curly hair on prom night, for the first time ever. Usually my hair just does its thing; I'll wash it but aside from that it's on it's own, the way it likes to be. Which is why my hair is usually just this huge mass of blondish-brown stuff that is straight in some places, wavy in other places, or frizzy, or kinked, but ALWAYS tangled. But prom night was different. I had a haircut appointment earlier that day and after my hairdresser trimmed my hair, she curled it. ALL of it. It took her over an hour. There's no way I could ever have the patience to curl my own hair. Unless I've got enough money to pay somebody, I'll never see this hair again in my life. But damn did it look good for that one night.
All in all, prom was pretty cool. Good food, tolerable music, fun people, and wonderful after-activities. And everyone (seriously, EVERYONE) looked positively gorgeous. I'm glad I found a date and did the whole participating-in-school-social-function thing, because I wouldn't want to be 45 and look back and be all full of regret that I didn't go to senior prom, blah blah blah. But I'll probably die long before then, and never reach that stage where the combination of age and bitterness result in the kind of life that grows increasingly miserable as you inch your way toward inevitable death. Fuck that; I really don't need to live like that, nor do I need to live that long. Ten more years should do it.
That's me and my date Mike before we left. He had a swim meet that day and was waaaaay late because of it; he "blow-dried" his hair out the window down 280 and didn't even have time enough to put on his vest, tie, or cufflinks. Meanwhile I sat around growing increasingly irritable, but as soon as Mike arrived and finished dressing and my mom had gotten her little picture-taking fix we left and after that I felt much better.
I had curly hair on prom night, for the first time ever. Usually my hair just does its thing; I'll wash it but aside from that it's on it's own, the way it likes to be. Which is why my hair is usually just this huge mass of blondish-brown stuff that is straight in some places, wavy in other places, or frizzy, or kinked, but ALWAYS tangled. But prom night was different. I had a haircut appointment earlier that day and after my hairdresser trimmed my hair, she curled it. ALL of it. It took her over an hour. There's no way I could ever have the patience to curl my own hair. Unless I've got enough money to pay somebody, I'll never see this hair again in my life. But damn did it look good for that one night.
All in all, prom was pretty cool. Good food, tolerable music, fun people, and wonderful after-activities. And everyone (seriously, EVERYONE) looked positively gorgeous. I'm glad I found a date and did the whole participating-in-school-social-function thing, because I wouldn't want to be 45 and look back and be all full of regret that I didn't go to senior prom, blah blah blah. But I'll probably die long before then, and never reach that stage where the combination of age and bitterness result in the kind of life that grows increasingly miserable as you inch your way toward inevitable death. Fuck that; I really don't need to live like that, nor do I need to live that long. Ten more years should do it.