Survival of the Pastel People

My friends, being the intelligent and creative little fuckers they are, usually manage to come up with some really groovy stuff.

My best friend, Tessa, had a really great idea a couple months ago.  We were slightly bummed that we had missed the Homecoming dance, although we weren't actually bummed because we knew that if we went, we would have been bombarded with people we didn't like, music we didn't like, and clothing we didn't like.  So she comes up to me like "Hey, why don't we have our own dance?" 

I sat there and nodded, not really taking into consideration how flat out serious she was about the whole thing.  Naturally coming from a girl like this you know it's gonna be interesting.

Her sweater is ironic because she's allergic to cats.

     She set up a whole damn committee for this thing, which was slightly okay because only half of the actual committee showed up?  We had some beef with one of our friends who thought we were being selfish bastards for wanting to see him (who I personally hadn't seen in a good 5 months), so he went up to Louisiana to be with his family. 
     Her idea was pastel everything.  Pastel foods, pastel decorations (That ended up more or less an explosion of gold and silver tinsel), and if she had her way, pastel people.  We managed at least 1 of those 3 things and ended up with a grazing table that looked like this.

I was afraid to eat the sandwiches because they were sprayed pink and I didn't want to get that shit on my teeth.

      I took lots of photographs (so did a good friend of mine, Jordan Likens ) and got some pretty nice shots out of it. 

I was lucky enough to be assigned the PhotoBooth, where I took shots of unsuspecting partygoers as they handed me lavish natural poses to capture with my camera.

We get excited over this shit, y'know?

The boys.  Who had decided the only way to make Trent look good was to make themselves ugly (er?) 

Alex was so sweet, but the bastard was so quiet you could barely tell if he was around!  But once you got him talking there was a lot to be said and all in all he was a totally cool cat. 

It wasn't actually that stressful from my end of it.  The worst thing I had to deal with was finding a dress.  The one I ended up with was a nice blue dress that, even after I sewed the straps higher, was about 60% boobs.  For once in my life I seriously took into consideration things I'd heard from Jenna Marbles.  And those things included how to make your boobs look awesome. 

Oh damn look at this shit

Happy dancing and face tattoos I didn't choose the thug life the thug life chose me

     All in all it was an actually pretty great party.  Men took their shirts off and ran around while my girlfriends watched like hungry wolves.
     Hungry, single wolves.
     I've got the rest of the pictures up on my Flikr if you're interested.

Speculation on the end of 2012

It's been another year. 
Another long, agonizing year that has ended with a great sigh of relief.  You sit there wondering how all this bullshit and coolshit has just come and gone within a 365 day range.  You've had heartbreaks and stomach aches, but you've also made friends and more blog posts than you can count on both of your hands.   Personally, the end of the year and beginning of the next is always the most exciting for me (Christmas and my Birthday, duh).  But I've had a pretty good later-half of this year.  I'm almost 17 and I have a fucking fantastic group of friends, good clothes, and a boyfriend who really knocks my socks off.

Seriously you guys, I've got it made. 
So leave all the nasty shit behind and take the good shit with you.  

Xmas

 For normal families, today is the day when your Mother starts freaking out because she has to start cooking for a family you only see once a year.  It's when your Father spends all day sleeping in his easy chair and watching TV. It's when ABC plays reruns of those old stop-motion Christmas specials about Jack Frost and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.  It's the day your tiny siblings are stocking up on peppermint, worrying about what kind of cookies that Santa really likes, and running around faster than Whitney Houston on her 8th line of coke.   Today is the day you stay inside on your computer, complaining about the holidays on tumblr and posting ironic Bowie lyrics on your Facebook because, quite frankly, nobody understands you. 

Today is motherfucking Christmas Eve. 

I don't really know what I expect out of Christmas this year, although up to this point has been pretty fucking brilliant.  Like the top of our tree, might I add.  

SpockJesus

Christmas is a great time of the year to have excuses to have get-togethers with your friends.  Like mine, who act like meth addicted cokeheads and buy things like condoms (Plot Twist: It was me) and candy bras for White Elephant Christmas gifts.  Oh, youth.  I think if we had booze then a part of the house might have actually caught fire.

I think aside some markers I've already got everything I could ask for. 

Also like most other packs of teenagers, we have tiny white trees topped with homosexual singers and a peeky Norse gods.