What I call a successful weekend...
Mar. 28th, 2004 10:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
transomwhiplassThis has been a successful weekend. I succeeded. I rose above the occasion. Let me count the ways and further define this abstract notion of "success."
1. I got accepted at UT. Sure, its not Ivy.. but its *pretty* hard to get in these days (if you aren't top 10% in Texas). It made my parents happy.. thus, they did not yell at me and even on occasion would: look at me, get this look of amazement, shake their heads, and mutter "wow..". Dude, if that doesn't make you feel good about yourself.. go throw yourself off a bridge because nothing will make you happy.
2. We went to the movies (always necessary for a good weekend). We saw The Ladykillers which was funny. The Tom Hanks character got kind of annoying though and they kill personal characters in a comical fashion that disturbed me, strangely, way more than mass slayings of innocents in those violent action movies. My dad was bitching about "how (the directors, MORALLY) could they could make the remake of The Ladykilllers (extra stress on it like it was as mild asBambi Snow White [Bambi is a tad disturbing]) Rated R. It was totally necessary. It was Rated R because of Marlon Wayne's character which was "fuck"-every-third-word but he was soooooo funny that at the end my dad just couldn't stop talking about how great a remake it was.
3. We went in to work on the newspaper. We REALLY lucked out. Mr. Fil. was there uh.. supervising(I guess you could say) Saturday school and he said "yeah no problem! I turned the alarm off back there." Sister Judy was coming later but we didn't know if we would have to wait. But honestly.. of all people.. we got Mr. Fil, there could be a guy who would care less. We got SO much done. Oh, and ^-^.. I guess I can say, I don't think she will tell anyone I know, Laura got into Stanford. I am sooo happy for her. It was her first choice, she got defered E.D. and above all - her dad who is an alum had many fellow-alum friends: 8 of whom had daughters that didn't get in. I just.. oh my God, I was so proud and happy for her. That is what she wanted more than anything it seemed, there has been lots of good news for her. I will feel so blessed if all of my friends get their top choices (Mary.. I'm so sorry about Boston College, here's to TUFTS- I'll cross my eyes for 2 weeks if it helps). We are almost done with the issue, we actually might get it on Friday which is so super you have no idea.
4. I'm doing a puzzle/craft project! I'm such a nerd (I know) but I've had an obsession with puzzles since before I could string proper sentences together.. seriously. Not just dinky 10 piece ones. I'm talking 50-100 pieces around the age of 5. You are probably wondering how I survived to such a ripe old age of 17, I mean.. Sarah.. the girl who can't even put matching shoes on to school (happy now, Becca?) and doesn't realize it till the day is almost over - she would surely have choked to death on a piece. lol. So yeah. It isn't really a puzzle, but it is from that Puzz-3D company. It's a medieval clock that really works! ::hold for extreme raucous laughter:: I'm amused though. I'm actually doing something on the weekend! Woo!
5. Now for the pinnacle achievement. I got a prom dress. You have no idea. For my 8th grade dance, we went to like 10 stores.. drove probably a collective hundred miles until I settled on one probably more out of fatigue than anything else. Of course then, a naive 8th grader who had been wearing bib overalls for about 5 years straight (it has been hypothesized as a way to cover the shame of ahem, shall we say.. new assets) I had extremely high demands. It shalt not have been: a) Low plunging (eliminating v-necks & scoop-necks and everything with a cut below the armpit) b) Have beads or gauze c) Be of a heinous (yes.. very abstract) color d) Be too "poofy" e) Oh and *heavens* have spaghetti straps or be strapless all together (actually I don't think they allowed the last one anyway). Actually my dress was perfect and if it was blue.. it would kind of resemble overalls. It was red though. I still have it, it still fits. Annnnyway... let me tell you the tale of this quest, for it was a quest of the mind, the body, & patience. However, the more mystical part of this quest was that it in total lasted no more that 2 combined hours. The story begins a few weeks ago. My mother and I were at Foley's for a trip of the worst kind. I shalt not tell you of the horrors, but just know... it twas horrendous. In the location we were and finished with the unfortunate task now gladly stuffed in a bag, our eyes gandered over a mere 20 feet away. There was this dress. I hate dances. I remember shopping last time for a dress, I remember shopping in general - it makes me feel like evil is afoot. I generally put up my nose to the "froo-froo" and frivolous. However, I'm still a silly girl at heart who loved her barbies and dolls, and often practiced her wedding (now a notorious story: yes.. I *married* Mickey and made Minnie watch). Sooo enough embarrassing memories. It was so lovely and I just said "wow, that really is pretty." It led to awkward exchanged words between me and my mother about the taboo word (at least in my household) prom. It was funny because the only shopping trip that I could imagine a close second to why we were there.. that was dress shopping. We walked out but it stuck in the corner of my mind. What is amusing is that those few shameful glances that lasted no more than about 5 seconds which stuck in my head got "mussed" over by the several weeks time to the present. So today when we made *the trip*, I had a VERY disillusioned view of the dress I had remembered. Ok, I remembered a: beige dress, with 3-D silk flowers that became part of the fabric of the dress. In actuality, that was a hallucination of the *idea* of a floral-patterned dress with the dress that I still think is the most beautiful dress I've ever seen - Trudie Styler(Sting's wife)'s 97' (I think) Oscar dress. Ok. But when we got there, I knew which dress I had seen. It was lovely but they didn't have the right size. So oh well. What was funny though is that two designers had made similar strapless gowns out of the same fabric. I was amused but sad. My mom made me try on like 6 dresses I hated within the hour we had before dinner. Also funny was this manikin in a dress that was seated in a chair, her plastic hair was all messed up and it looks like she got busy with Bobby-Joe in the back of a limo. The dress looked ok though - I wondered if it was an accident or a testament to the dresses "durability." At dinner I was kind of bummed. It's the age old story: you go try on clothes and you think it all looks like crap on you, eventually after the n-th time... you just start wondering if it's your fault. We only set for one hour and my heart wasn't even into it. We decided to try Dilllard's, reluctantly. The Houston Press just published a scathing feature story about how racist and discriminatory the store is. My self-appreciation was pretty much dragged through the gutter and my mom was ready to sacrifice her better-morals and rationalize the situation: "at least they didn't mention this location in the story"-sort-of-attitude. So we braved it. She made me try on a whole bunch of these cheap 75% off dresses which kind of sucked because they were ugly and trashy left-overs, you know. Her idea was.. you can't go wrong for $20-just-in-case. That was all fine and good. I was ready to move on to the next store when she said she thought she say someone with a formal dress come from the other way. So we wandered over. They had so much more variety than Foley's which had a lot of black, some more black, color mixed with black, black with pieces of color, oh.. and a little more black. Yeah. I'm talking like wham-bam-color-m'am. I think I was blinded. I felt like Dorothy, for serious people. It was funny, they had this funky blue dress (that was SO pretty) and I kind of gushed "oh! How love..oh my god!" The "Oh my God" was incited by tear drop holes that followed from the cleavage, under the left boob, and down to the leg wear there was a HUGE slit. lol. I moved past the display and there it was.. the pretty dress I had seen those few weeks ago. Lo-and-behold.. they actually had one I thought might fit. We grabbed two more, for good measure, - one in the same size, from the same designer as the first. I decided to wait till last. I tried the odd-ball third first and it sucked - I knew it would.. I just wanted it out of the way. I tried the other-gown same size. Yeah.. it had problems - I missed overalls at that moment. With a little bit of grief I decided, oh for kicks.. lets try "the one." Funny enough, the way it was cut as a strapless had forced the designer to add some give to the top. It fit and I almost threw up on it. Actually, no.. I didn't.. but wouldn't that be a tragic twist?!? I told my mom and there was, as we say, "much rejoicing." We bagged it. I got it. I'm done. In two hours.. we were in shock. Now I just need shoes. Woo.. shoes are fun though. So there is my tale, in full un-abridged format. It twas a bit magical, there was some luck, there were sacrifices, near tears, some strained relationships as a flair for the dramatic, and it alluded all great Disney movies. Best of all, it was over so fast.. the stigma that usually comes from the horror of dress shopping is already forgotten. Yes.. I know I haven't described it. I love suspense but I'm a gobbly-gook who can't withhold details. So, regardless of what you think about it, it most importantly makes me happy and that is all that counts, no?
So like I said, it has been a pretty good weekend. I'm actually maybe ready to go back to school. Sarah who was drowning is now on shore. Honestly, I do feel something mystical afoot - the contrast of my thoughts at dinner and those moments when I put the dress in the back of the car, that really was extraordinary. So yes, Sarah got knocked off her high horse.. she is being a silly girl but so much of it's relief that the stress is off. It's just all so lovely right now.
1. I got accepted at UT. Sure, its not Ivy.. but its *pretty* hard to get in these days (if you aren't top 10% in Texas). It made my parents happy.. thus, they did not yell at me and even on occasion would: look at me, get this look of amazement, shake their heads, and mutter "wow..". Dude, if that doesn't make you feel good about yourself.. go throw yourself off a bridge because nothing will make you happy.
2. We went to the movies (always necessary for a good weekend). We saw The Ladykillers which was funny. The Tom Hanks character got kind of annoying though and they kill personal characters in a comical fashion that disturbed me, strangely, way more than mass slayings of innocents in those violent action movies. My dad was bitching about "how (the directors, MORALLY) could they could make the remake of The Ladykilllers (extra stress on it like it was as mild as
3. We went in to work on the newspaper. We REALLY lucked out. Mr. Fil. was there uh.. supervising(I guess you could say) Saturday school and he said "yeah no problem! I turned the alarm off back there." Sister Judy was coming later but we didn't know if we would have to wait. But honestly.. of all people.. we got Mr. Fil, there could be a guy who would care less. We got SO much done. Oh, and ^-^.. I guess I can say, I don't think she will tell anyone I know, Laura got into Stanford. I am sooo happy for her. It was her first choice, she got defered E.D. and above all - her dad who is an alum had many fellow-alum friends: 8 of whom had daughters that didn't get in. I just.. oh my God, I was so proud and happy for her. That is what she wanted more than anything it seemed, there has been lots of good news for her. I will feel so blessed if all of my friends get their top choices (Mary.. I'm so sorry about Boston College, here's to TUFTS- I'll cross my eyes for 2 weeks if it helps). We are almost done with the issue, we actually might get it on Friday which is so super you have no idea.
4. I'm doing a puzzle/craft project! I'm such a nerd (I know) but I've had an obsession with puzzles since before I could string proper sentences together.. seriously. Not just dinky 10 piece ones. I'm talking 50-100 pieces around the age of 5. You are probably wondering how I survived to such a ripe old age of 17, I mean.. Sarah.. the girl who can't even put matching shoes on to school (happy now, Becca?) and doesn't realize it till the day is almost over - she would surely have choked to death on a piece. lol. So yeah. It isn't really a puzzle, but it is from that Puzz-3D company. It's a medieval clock that really works! ::hold for extreme raucous laughter:: I'm amused though. I'm actually doing something on the weekend! Woo!
5. Now for the pinnacle achievement. I got a prom dress. You have no idea. For my 8th grade dance, we went to like 10 stores.. drove probably a collective hundred miles until I settled on one probably more out of fatigue than anything else. Of course then, a naive 8th grader who had been wearing bib overalls for about 5 years straight (it has been hypothesized as a way to cover the shame of ahem, shall we say.. new assets) I had extremely high demands. It shalt not have been: a) Low plunging (eliminating v-necks & scoop-necks and everything with a cut below the armpit) b) Have beads or gauze c) Be of a heinous (yes.. very abstract) color d) Be too "poofy" e) Oh and *heavens* have spaghetti straps or be strapless all together (actually I don't think they allowed the last one anyway). Actually my dress was perfect and if it was blue.. it would kind of resemble overalls. It was red though. I still have it, it still fits. Annnnyway... let me tell you the tale of this quest, for it was a quest of the mind, the body, & patience. However, the more mystical part of this quest was that it in total lasted no more that 2 combined hours. The story begins a few weeks ago. My mother and I were at Foley's for a trip of the worst kind. I shalt not tell you of the horrors, but just know... it twas horrendous. In the location we were and finished with the unfortunate task now gladly stuffed in a bag, our eyes gandered over a mere 20 feet away. There was this dress. I hate dances. I remember shopping last time for a dress, I remember shopping in general - it makes me feel like evil is afoot. I generally put up my nose to the "froo-froo" and frivolous. However, I'm still a silly girl at heart who loved her barbies and dolls, and often practiced her wedding (now a notorious story: yes.. I *married* Mickey and made Minnie watch). Sooo enough embarrassing memories. It was so lovely and I just said "wow, that really is pretty." It led to awkward exchanged words between me and my mother about the taboo word (at least in my household) prom. It was funny because the only shopping trip that I could imagine a close second to why we were there.. that was dress shopping. We walked out but it stuck in the corner of my mind. What is amusing is that those few shameful glances that lasted no more than about 5 seconds which stuck in my head got "mussed" over by the several weeks time to the present. So today when we made *the trip*, I had a VERY disillusioned view of the dress I had remembered. Ok, I remembered a: beige dress, with 3-D silk flowers that became part of the fabric of the dress. In actuality, that was a hallucination of the *idea* of a floral-patterned dress with the dress that I still think is the most beautiful dress I've ever seen - Trudie Styler(Sting's wife)'s 97' (I think) Oscar dress. Ok. But when we got there, I knew which dress I had seen. It was lovely but they didn't have the right size. So oh well. What was funny though is that two designers had made similar strapless gowns out of the same fabric. I was amused but sad. My mom made me try on like 6 dresses I hated within the hour we had before dinner. Also funny was this manikin in a dress that was seated in a chair, her plastic hair was all messed up and it looks like she got busy with Bobby-Joe in the back of a limo. The dress looked ok though - I wondered if it was an accident or a testament to the dresses "durability." At dinner I was kind of bummed. It's the age old story: you go try on clothes and you think it all looks like crap on you, eventually after the n-th time... you just start wondering if it's your fault. We only set for one hour and my heart wasn't even into it. We decided to try Dilllard's, reluctantly. The Houston Press just published a scathing feature story about how racist and discriminatory the store is. My self-appreciation was pretty much dragged through the gutter and my mom was ready to sacrifice her better-morals and rationalize the situation: "at least they didn't mention this location in the story"-sort-of-attitude. So we braved it. She made me try on a whole bunch of these cheap 75% off dresses which kind of sucked because they were ugly and trashy left-overs, you know. Her idea was.. you can't go wrong for $20-just-in-case. That was all fine and good. I was ready to move on to the next store when she said she thought she say someone with a formal dress come from the other way. So we wandered over. They had so much more variety than Foley's which had a lot of black, some more black, color mixed with black, black with pieces of color, oh.. and a little more black. Yeah. I'm talking like wham-bam-color-m'am. I think I was blinded. I felt like Dorothy, for serious people. It was funny, they had this funky blue dress (that was SO pretty) and I kind of gushed "oh! How love..oh my god!" The "Oh my God" was incited by tear drop holes that followed from the cleavage, under the left boob, and down to the leg wear there was a HUGE slit. lol. I moved past the display and there it was.. the pretty dress I had seen those few weeks ago. Lo-and-behold.. they actually had one I thought might fit. We grabbed two more, for good measure, - one in the same size, from the same designer as the first. I decided to wait till last. I tried the odd-ball third first and it sucked - I knew it would.. I just wanted it out of the way. I tried the other-gown same size. Yeah.. it had problems - I missed overalls at that moment. With a little bit of grief I decided, oh for kicks.. lets try "the one." Funny enough, the way it was cut as a strapless had forced the designer to add some give to the top. It fit and I almost threw up on it. Actually, no.. I didn't.. but wouldn't that be a tragic twist?!? I told my mom and there was, as we say, "much rejoicing." We bagged it. I got it. I'm done. In two hours.. we were in shock. Now I just need shoes. Woo.. shoes are fun though. So there is my tale, in full un-abridged format. It twas a bit magical, there was some luck, there were sacrifices, near tears, some strained relationships as a flair for the dramatic, and it alluded all great Disney movies. Best of all, it was over so fast.. the stigma that usually comes from the horror of dress shopping is already forgotten. Yes.. I know I haven't described it. I love suspense but I'm a gobbly-gook who can't withhold details. So, regardless of what you think about it, it most importantly makes me happy and that is all that counts, no?
So like I said, it has been a pretty good weekend. I'm actually maybe ready to go back to school. Sarah who was drowning is now on shore. Honestly, I do feel something mystical afoot - the contrast of my thoughts at dinner and those moments when I put the dress in the back of the car, that really was extraordinary. So yes, Sarah got knocked off her high horse.. she is being a silly girl but so much of it's relief that the stress is off. It's just all so lovely right now.
