Questionable

My mother:
"I don't know how healthy this is. I want to get her drunk under our surveillance so she see drinking is not good. So she see what happens."


Yeah, right, like I would EVER voluntarily get drunk in front of my parents.
This is why I need to stop asking for alcohol at family dinners.

I'm Home!

We'll see how this works out.
Sorry that you guys have to keep commenting on the same post, I just have nothing particularly interesting to write about.
(i love my friends, but i personally think it's more fun to read about misfortunes)

Holiday Ball

Not much to say.
Apparently I looked a tad like a blow-up doll?

(I'm the type who would take this as an enormous compliment).

Sandstorm was like a fucking mosh pit.
Not fun in 4& 1/2 inch heels.
Except still extremely, unbelievably exciting.


I also walked into this random creeper at our school and busted my lip...

Two essays due tomorrow.

Walking on Sunshine

So there's this beautiful seniour who goes to my school.
He's a prefect in the freshman boy's dorm.
Let me describe to you how perfect this prefect (sorry, i couldn't help it) is:
+he's on varsity WATER POLO
+he's smart (because he's a prefect)
+he is in arts concentration (actors are generally attractive, eh?)
+he is the leader of student council


Swoons.
Apparently he doesn't associate with freshman, though, so I'm not getting my hopes up. Or at least I'm trying to think realistically. Basically, at the beginning of the year I used to go up to him and go "what's my name?" He'd say "Taffy" and I'd walk off. Then I stopped because I realised that it was probably really annoying and I'd assumed that was the end of the "Taffy-Talking-to-Perfect-Prefect" phase.

False.

Monica and I decided to try out for student- directed scenes the other Wednesday. Basically, one student at the school writes a scene (like from a play) and another one (usually an upperclassman) directs it. I did a monologue.

Just to give you some perspective:
I didn't expect to actually get in. First of all, our school is really intense regarding theater. Several alumni have gone on to win academy awards and shit. Like, I really enjoy acting, but I'm not GOOD enough to continue with it. I mainly auditioned for moral support for Monica, because it sounded fun, and because I found out that Perfect Prefect was one of the student-directors (I obsess). On the slim chance that I would make it, it would be amazing to be in the scene that he was directing.

Monica is a really intense actress. Back in Houston, she was represented by one of Houston's most prestigious agencies, but she left it. To come to boarding school. She handed me a huge stack of scenes and I chose one (not at random). I practiced and then we went to our auditions (I told her to sign me up).

I know for a fact that Monica did really well, and I'm not just saying that in a "I'll never be good enough" kind of way, she's just really good at acting. The next day, during one of our free periods, we went to check the cast list.




No freshmen made the cut.


Hahaha, build up, no? But apparently like... eighty people auditioned, only thirteen made it. So I was okay. Honestly, I really wished Monica had (just as long as she wasn't in Perfect Prefect's, she's already in costuming with him).

Today during community lunch (read sit-down and waste-a-free-period lunch), I was talking to my prefect and Perfect Prefect said my name. "Taffy...?" He said it kind of quietly and the slight pause was for me to turn and acknowledge him, I wasn't sure if he had actually said my name, "You did really well in your audition."
"Oh, thank you."
"We were all talking about it and (something something something... i was too stunned at the moment to remember what he actually said)."
My prefect cut in and said, "Oh, that's funny! I'm pretty sure that's the one where you walked in [to the dorm] and the first thing you said was 'my audition sucked'"
Perfect Prefect: "She was actually excellent."
Me: "Glad you feel that way."
My prefect: "Wait, then why did you say you didn't do well?" (i genuinely thought i hadn't)
Me: "Well... like, I didn't. And (a bit of blathering here)... I don't know. I'll probably try out again in January or something." Then I quickly walked off.


Okay, so now that I'm thinking sanely again, I realise that this moment wasn't that significant. But I figured out that even if I had done really well, Perfect Prefect didn't need to stop me and compliment me. So the basic ending of the story is that: Perfect Prefect does not hate Taffy/ does not find her particularly annoying.


Sorry for the überlong post.

New York is a Money Vacuum

So the whole class thing was cleared up and I escaped sunday-detention free.


New York was amazing.
Total damage: $110

Now I barely have any money for my next two weeks at school... plus I can't ask my mom to put more in my account because she doesn't know that I actually went... Yeah.


But Geisha is absolutely delicious.
And we got breakfast at this restaurant called Maison.
And Pinkberry twice :)
Long story short: taxi rides and food add up.


Oh, and I somehow ended this trip being the owner of a fur coat made from silver fox. What was weird is how entirely simple this came to be.

Julia's Mom: "Taffy, come here sweetie."
Me: "Um... alright"
Julia's Mom: "Well since Julia has this whole anti- fur thing going on, could you do me a favour?"
Me: "Sure, Natalie (Julia's mom's name)."
Julia's Mom: "Would you just go into... that thing and try on the coat?"
Julia: "What thing, mom? People don't really know what you're talking about when you just say thing."
I come out with the coat.
Julia: "It fits reaaaaally nicely."
Julia's Mom: "It needs to be steamed. Taff, let me get that steamed sometime and I'll ship it to you along with a hat or something."






Dude... What?

OH, You Mean Taff? That BAMF!

So I figured I'd open this post with something amusing.

There's this girl who lives on the third floor (where I live), her name is Sophia. She tried to sell me her printer.
Sometimes, you'll go into the bathroom and all of the lights are on but it doesn't look like anyone's in there. (we're really environmentally conscious here, the last person in the bathroom turns out the light). You'll go into a stall to do your business (PEE, YOU DUMB SHIT!). You'll wash your hands. You'll turn out the lights and walk out. Then three seconds later, you'll hear a loud

"HEY, HEY!"


Oh, Sophia.

What do you do in there?

Last time I walked into the bathroom right after she left it, it smelled like meat.
Ground beef, to be exact.

So I'm going to New York with Julia this weekend.
My parents are very strongly against it.
Normally, I would say "but they can't do anything about it!"
But actually, they can.
Due to the code "2222" next to my name.
(which means I'm a prisoner at the school with my parents' permission)

I have found a way to overcome this!
I forwarded an "e-mail from my mom" to our dean's assistant telling her that I have permission to go to the city.
In actuality, it's a letter listing specific reasons why I'm not allowed to go.
I even let all grammar and articles go to the wind!

Oh, and I accidentally cut class yesterday to have lunch with Matt.
This is getting very bad.
(also, I might miss out on NY because I have Sunday Detention...)






Just to let you know, I was being completely sarcastic throughout this entire post. Never would I refer to myself as a BAMF, even when meant as a compliment, it's an insult.