Almost Graduationy Stuff.

There are so many rituals and traditions that go along with graduating from high school, especially from a high school that thinks a lot of itself. If my high school was a person, it might be Robert Downy Jr.

All these pre-graduationy things are taking up my time, but at least we can look cute while doing it sometimes. Like for the white dress photo, when the girls put on white dresses, the guys put on suits, and we take a group picture on the steps. Apparently us grads clean up pretty nicely to be a super suave crew.

Because we're pretty cute.

Allan tried to make posing with him while he was smoking a thing.
I have over 10 pictures of him smoking with different people.

Moriah and Victor have super human amounts of sass.

Obligatory picture of Alan Jones and Allan Jones.

(1) This looks surprisingly like a stock photo and (2) the background expressions.

Appreciate the chicken fight I completely unknowingly captured in the background.

The next few weeks are going to be busy with grad events, work and socializing myself. I've spent so many free periods in the past week playing Dutch Blitz while yelling obscene things at people. I'm not proud of who I am when I play Dutch Blitz but I need to stress myself out somehow. However, Allan, Moriah and I introduced it and the way it's catching on, it's practically an epidemic.

I also went to my friend's homeschool graduation today and felt a little guilty, purely because I'm not and never have been homeschooled. Whatevs lulz public school.

Hearts,

Julianne

A+ Prom Prep.

• A highly improbable series of events occurred last night. Earl "Tidbitz" the Gray, the stray cat my family has been feeding, snuck into the house through the cat door while we were sleeping and, upon seeing the assortment of clothes drying on the basement clothes line, urinated on both my graduation dress (which I need for Wednesday) and my prom dress. Somdays my life is a joke with really strange hoops to jump through sometimes, I washing cat pee out of formal wear. From this point on, when people ask me whether I'm a cat person, I can respond "I used to be, before 'The Incident.'" Cats and I are not on good terms right now. 
• I spent far more time than I cared to today convincing my parents that no, my prom date isn't gay and it wouldn't matter either way.
• So all in all, I'm not putting much effort towards prom prep but any that I might use to kill time with between now and then have potential to be any level of weird. 

Hearts,
Julianne

An overbearing hipster stereotype kind of day.

I have on and off days when it comes to being an inherently, overbearingly hipster stereotype.

Today was definitely an on day. It hit me as I was explaining to an Indigo employee, as I drank soy chai while listening to Kid A, that I'm recreationally reading the three classic novels I was holding (The Great Gatsby, The Picture of Dorian Gray and On the Road) because exams are over and I have time to. Then I told him that I'm going to King's next year and he said "OHHH" like it explained everything he was witnessing about me, the barista listening to Radiohead, drinking soy chai and discussing pretentious literature.

And in that moment, I swear I was the epitome of a subcultural stereotype.

I didn't chose this, it chose me.This isn't even the worst of it.
Hearts,
Julianne

Funny things happen to me sometimes.

I have another post I'm planning about last weekend because I have more to say than this, but I have a bit of an amusing story to share.

When I was at camp last weekend on Sunday night, there was a big shindig and afterward everyone in the camp had gone to bed except for a group of us who were still too wound up. So we hung out and talked for a while until we collapsed into a cuddle puddle on the floor of the slightly sketchy dining-hall-turned-recreation-room. Around 1am, this guy named Ethan casually got off the floor, left, and came back with a guitar. Upon his entrance with his guitar, he paused . . . and pulled some roses from behind his back. He proceeded to give one to each of the girls there, telling us that we were all beautiful. Then he then put one of the roses in his mouth and broke into playing stereotypical Spanish music on his guitar with an intense, stone faced smoulder. Rachel, Hannah and I laughed on the floor, Hannah occasionally commented "He's male me. He's male me!" and Jazmin was hysterically shouting "THIS ISN'T REAL LIFE." He was not shaken by the hysterics that were occurring; he continued his little serenading performance to the four of us women without once losing focus. It didn't feel like real life, especially considering that it was during during a 1am cuddle puddle on a floor at bible camp.

So I guess that's the story of how a 15 year old boy I'd just met gave me a rose in the middle of the night at bible camp, and the reason that said rose has faint teeth marks on it. Funny things happen to me sometimes.
Hearts,
Julianne