Wednesday, May 23, 2012

We Might Not Come Back At All

In honor of today. 
I am officially half-way through high school.
Junior year, here I come.


And the title of this post is a lie...I will be coming back. In the Fall. 
But now it's time for summer. And no homework. And no tests. And no getting up early. And no uniforms.

My friend is having her annual 'Burning Party" tonight. 
I know what I'll be burning.
Goodbye, Canto XXIII of Dante's Inferno.

I'm gonna go have a snowcone, cause I can.
K, bye.

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Darling, Save the Last Dance for Me

Last Saturday was my school's Spring Formal. Which is essentially Prom, but way cooler. Cause we do English Country dancing. Yup. Like Jane Austen. I know, we're so hipster.
Anyways. It's super fun. It was Paris themed. So everything was decorated super cute, and the food was fabulously French and delicious.

The tornado sirens started going off during dinner. And there was golf-ball sized hail. So, that was super exciting! And we all survived...which was even more exciting.



I brought my friend, Emily, with me. Because she's really cool. And I thought everyone at my school needed to know her. We got to the dance about 45 minutes early...not entirely sure why, but it just happened that way. So, we decided to kill some time by going to McDonalds and getting a shake. (Bad idea, by the way. The strawberry shakes taste like dying babies. No, I've never tried a dying baby. Stop taking everything so literally.) When we pulled up to the drive-thru window, the following conversation took place:

Drive-thru man: What are you two ladies all dressed up for?
Me: We're headed to prom.
Drive-thru man: OHMYGOSH. CONGRATULATIONS!
Me: Umm...thank you?
Drive-thru man: Here's your change. And, again, ladies- Congratulations. Have a GREAT time.

We were so confused. But, I mean...he was nice?

So, then we sat in my car watching Miranda Sings videos on Emilys iPhone, and got stalked by these creepy demon-possessed birds. And then we got to Formal at the right time.
And we did the little Tony-Maria dance from West Side Story about forty times. Perfectly, step by step. Everyone was pretty jealous...obviously.


What's a school dance without stereotypical posing?


And this is the entire girl portion of my class. And I love them all dearly. And I love this picture. Because it pretty much sums us all up perfectly.

So, yup. I'm pretty sure you're all caught up on my life now. As if you really care.

Well, I'm off to memorize Canto XXIII of Dante's Inferno for my Humanities class. DEATH! Literally....cause it's the Inferno. Get it? Haha. WHY AM I SO FUNNY?!




The Midnight Hour is Close At Hand

I've realized that this post may completely ruin my chances of ever having friends in the future. Because...it's incredibly weird. At least Nunsie will have the same problem. So we can live together in our weird solitary world. Or maybe we can start a cult with other weird people who have lost all their friends due to their obsession with floor-length velvet skirts and awkawrdly delicious food. That'd be exciting. We can all listen to Marina & the Diamonds while drinking Japanese soda together, and Nunsie will provide us with Rosemary cupcakes with goat cheese frosting. Yum.
I need to stop writing about this before I convince myself it's a good idea.
Because, in all seriousness, if I could live off of Nunsie's cupcakes and Peace Tea for the rest of my life...I'd be okay with that.

Enough of that. Here's some pictures. Enjoy. Or be freaked out. Preferably enjoy, but I won't blame you if you freak out. K, thanks.


It was dark. And Nunsie had brought over some animal antlers, an animal skull, and a candle. And a mango. Of course. So, yup, you guessed it. Photo shoot.




I have the bust of Shakespeare sitting on the piano in my house. So, we kinda had to take this shot. No judgements. And please pardon that awful glare.


Downton Abbey, anyone? I'm a bit in love with it, myself.
Sybil and Branson are cute. And don't even get me started on Mr. Bates and Anna.
Okay, I'm done. For now.

FIERCE AND LOVE,
Tyra.

Hahaha...totally joking.