Friday night was a world of fun. First, I got to spend a solid three and half hours covering the school in hearts. Yes, a bunch of NHS kids got together and decided to purposely make the school look like Valentine’s Day threw up on it. With my legs shaking and feet tightening, I climbed on top of the lockers and hung hearts from the ceiling. And after three-hours of work, back pain, and aching feet, two freshmen girl will appreciate all of the work. Then boys with nothing better to do will try to show off to their friends as they rip hearts from the ceiling and tear all of our hard work to shreds. I see you stupid sophomore boy with cupid’s head in your hands. Put it down and slowly back away.
When we were finally done, I rushed home and got ready as quickly as humanly possible. I picked my friend, Grace, up and we dashed to the mall. Looking for a dress isn’t easy on a good day. But when you’ve just downed two pieces of pizza and a Coke in the school cafeteria in between scattering the school with hearts, the last thing you think is that you look cute. It didn’t help that the first two dresses I tried on made me look like a twenty-year-old prostitute. And all my friend could say is “They’re not really you.” Well, thanks… At least I don’t usually look like a lady of the night. (Side note: I’m pretty sure the song “Taylor” by Jack Johnson is about a hooker… and I recognized that in eighth grade after my friend told me how cute the song was…)
After trying on several more mediocre dresses, I decided I wasn’t going to find a dress for Sadie’s. So she got what she wanted and we went to Panera for a quick snack. At last, we decided we better try to find our way home. Seeing as it was past nine o’clock and we had trouble getting here in the first place, we decided it was probably best to be very calm trying to get home.
That lasted until about 35 minutes in when I started throwing down curse words somewhere around University Drive. At one point we ended up near my grandma’s house, and I gleefully pumped my fist back in success. Then the freeway started to go into two different directions again… and I picked the wrong one. Every time that the freeway divided, I ended up on the wrong side. At this point, she’s like “Taylor it’s so weird to hear you swear. Just calm down. Be like those people in the sixties and seventies; they were so chill.”
“Grace, they were chill because they smoked hippie lettuce.”
“Haha I know, but just pretend.”
Finally we found the right freeway and I navigated my way home. I don’t know the last time I had such an eventful Friday night. Considering how tired I am after a week of school, I hope that was the last “fun-packed” Friday for a little while. (Just kidding, I already know my next two Fridays are crazy between the school Pageant show and that little thing called my golden birthday coming up.) But I could use some peaceful, stress free nights. Preferably without any hippie lettuce.