Sometimes I think too hard.
May. 12th, 2004 07:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
godreamIt's kind of funny the things I stress about.
So I've been spazzing about the five million things to do before prom -- as mentioned, the limo is more or less under control at this point. Nails are good to go, hair is iffy. (I have a choice between a 1:30 appointment, meaning I miss last block, which I'm not sure Ican get away with want to do, or a 3:30 45 minutes away, meaning I get back home at 5:15 at best and then get dressed and stuff in total panic fast mode. I'm leaning toward the latter, kind of, but it's probably bad that I don't know for certain.
So then there's flowers, right? My mother (aka social planner) reminded me I need to order a boutonniere (the spelling of which I had to look up -- stupid French words) for That Guy. (My mom is now the prom pro, having totally run the show for me and my sibs last year and doing the same again this year. She's the best mommy in the world. -- Oddly, there will be three kids from my family at senior prom this year, which I think will be read as "yay formal dress photo opportunity!" by the parentals. Uhoh.) Anyways. According to the social whatevers of prom, this is supposed to match my corsage, right? So I'm trying to come up with some way to bring this up, because somehow I think it's an absolutely huge deal that I have to be subtle about or something? And at some level I'm totally panicking. I don't know. My brain works weird; see subject line. Please stifle your mocking laughter.
So finally I give up on trying to plot a way to "naturally" mention the subject or whatever, right, and just bring it up outright already. We work it out, and he says his mom's been nagging him to ask about dress color, which makes me laugh because I'm at the same place in reverse, or something. I say I think my position's harder, seeing as all guys have to do is ask, whereas girls have to come up with some way to *get* them to ask.
No, you can just say it, he tells me.
What, 'oh, and by the way, my dress is purple, just in case you might happen to be wondering for some reason?' I ask.
No, he says, what you say is: my dress is purple, now buy me flowers, b****.
Okay, maybe you had to be there. *I* thought it was pretty amusing.
Seven days of school left -- and that's counting the cruise and senior seminar day and senior skip day, and the MCAS days. It's very weird and also kind of creepy. The building's going to get knocked down, and we can't come back, and our bridges are ashes behind us or whatever.
And shoot, I'm missing Smallville! *runs away*
So I've been spazzing about the five million things to do before prom -- as mentioned, the limo is more or less under control at this point. Nails are good to go, hair is iffy. (I have a choice between a 1:30 appointment, meaning I miss last block, which I'm not sure I
So then there's flowers, right? My mother (aka social planner) reminded me I need to order a boutonniere (the spelling of which I had to look up -- stupid French words) for That Guy. (My mom is now the prom pro, having totally run the show for me and my sibs last year and doing the same again this year. She's the best mommy in the world. -- Oddly, there will be three kids from my family at senior prom this year, which I think will be read as "yay formal dress photo opportunity!" by the parentals. Uhoh.) Anyways. According to the social whatevers of prom, this is supposed to match my corsage, right? So I'm trying to come up with some way to bring this up, because somehow I think it's an absolutely huge deal that I have to be subtle about or something? And at some level I'm totally panicking. I don't know. My brain works weird; see subject line. Please stifle your mocking laughter.
So finally I give up on trying to plot a way to "naturally" mention the subject or whatever, right, and just bring it up outright already. We work it out, and he says his mom's been nagging him to ask about dress color, which makes me laugh because I'm at the same place in reverse, or something. I say I think my position's harder, seeing as all guys have to do is ask, whereas girls have to come up with some way to *get* them to ask.
No, you can just say it, he tells me.
What, 'oh, and by the way, my dress is purple, just in case you might happen to be wondering for some reason?' I ask.
No, he says, what you say is: my dress is purple, now buy me flowers, b****.
Okay, maybe you had to be there. *I* thought it was pretty amusing.
Seven days of school left -- and that's counting the cruise and senior seminar day and senior skip day, and the MCAS days. It's very weird and also kind of creepy. The building's going to get knocked down, and we can't come back, and our bridges are ashes behind us or whatever.
And shoot, I'm missing Smallville! *runs away*
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no subject
Date: 2004-05-13 12:28 pm (UTC)i have to find out if he even bought the tickets! ahhhh.
no subject
Date: 2004-05-13 03:22 pm (UTC)ha! Well, see, now you know: evidently boys just want us to be blunt. Go figure. :P
Don't they stop selling tickets tomorrow? Better whip him into shape quickly... Do I know who your "he" is?
no subject
Date: 2004-05-13 03:31 pm (UTC)