I've been dying to write about my senior year for so long. Literally dying, because I'm ready for it to be over so that I can compile a list of my favorite memories and look back over them fondly as I tuck them gently into the little corner of my mind that I like to call THE PAST. But alas, it's still here. Senior year is the present. Between school, volleyball, college applications, and a sliver of a social life, it's becoming more and more difficult for my immune system to resist my body's urge to explode with stress-induced shingles. Graduation could not possibly come any slower. Well, that's a lie, and just because I said that, it'll probably come even slower. But so far, the times that have been craaawwwllliiinnnggg by have been fantastic.
Where do I begin? Well, seeing as I have virtually no time because I'm currently filling out a college application, I'll only tell one story: the story of the sleepover. It all began with a simple plan: my parents were going out, and I was to spend the night with some of my girls, leaving Joel with the house to himself. Trey Songz's voice emitted my phone, signaling a call from Georgie. "What now?!" I thought to myself. The request was simple: Tori wanted cookie dough and Hannah wanted french fries. Shocker. Simple; I got an extra order of fries from Burger King and picked up a tub of cookie dough from Walmart.
A chaotic night was under way. I bent a spoon in the tub of cookie dough and performed a life-saving operation on Georgie's ball of fluff that she calls a dog. Noah and James played hide and seek with me in Georgie's neighborhood and I stomped around looking for them while eating my feelings in cookie dough. Hannah and Georgie jumped me in Georgie's room because I took the cookie dough. I jumped Hannah because she jumped me and took the cookie dough. Tori and I had a Red Bull chugging competition. We did a lot of other stuff that will never be brought to the light >:) No big deal.
Finally, the boys left and we all "settled down" in Georgie's bed to watch Apocalypto. Allow me to take this time to inform everyone that attempting to have four girls in one queen sized bed, one 5'10" and one 6'2", is the epitome of insanity. After drinking Monsters and eating frozen pizza that we payed a dollar for (mistake), we all fell into a half-sleeping stupor. What happened next, I don't remember, but when I woke up the next morning, I had a broken neck and a Victoria attached to my leg. We woke up one by one, removed ourselves from the pretzel we'd made throughout the night and, without speaking, began consuming the food that was dispersed about the room while watching White Chicks. None of us knew what was going to happen. None of us knew what had happened. None of us wanted to know what had happened.
And I like these people why?
Where do I begin? Well, seeing as I have virtually no time because I'm currently filling out a college application, I'll only tell one story: the story of the sleepover. It all began with a simple plan: my parents were going out, and I was to spend the night with some of my girls, leaving Joel with the house to himself. Trey Songz's voice emitted my phone, signaling a call from Georgie. "What now?!" I thought to myself. The request was simple: Tori wanted cookie dough and Hannah wanted french fries. Shocker. Simple; I got an extra order of fries from Burger King and picked up a tub of cookie dough from Walmart.
A chaotic night was under way. I bent a spoon in the tub of cookie dough and performed a life-saving operation on Georgie's ball of fluff that she calls a dog. Noah and James played hide and seek with me in Georgie's neighborhood and I stomped around looking for them while eating my feelings in cookie dough. Hannah and Georgie jumped me in Georgie's room because I took the cookie dough. I jumped Hannah because she jumped me and took the cookie dough. Tori and I had a Red Bull chugging competition. We did a lot of other stuff that will never be brought to the light >:) No big deal.
Finally, the boys left and we all "settled down" in Georgie's bed to watch Apocalypto. Allow me to take this time to inform everyone that attempting to have four girls in one queen sized bed, one 5'10" and one 6'2", is the epitome of insanity. After drinking Monsters and eating frozen pizza that we payed a dollar for (mistake), we all fell into a half-sleeping stupor. What happened next, I don't remember, but when I woke up the next morning, I had a broken neck and a Victoria attached to my leg. We woke up one by one, removed ourselves from the pretzel we'd made throughout the night and, without speaking, began consuming the food that was dispersed about the room while watching White Chicks. None of us knew what was going to happen. None of us knew what had happened. None of us wanted to know what had happened.
And I like these people why?
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