7:19 p.m. - March 18, 2002
seniorgirlsurge
My birthday starts on the 26665th digit of pi. (if you write it as 3-28-84). Isn't that special? Anyhow, it has recently come to my attention that.. oh, fuck. My pen ran out. I was drawing designs on my hand, and it was getting cool, and the bloody fucking... oh, that I have to wear a prom dress or else I'm not to go with her, in no uncertain terms. I was wondering, Saturday, whether it would be acceptable just to wear a tux, if I promised not to do anything insane with it (although nothing could be so bad as Mike, who claims he's wearing a bright red one), but then I actually got this typical seniorgirlsurge of actual excitement about wearing a pretty dress and doing up my hair and putting on jewelry and having pictures taken and stumbling around in heels.. perhaps not that part. Either way, it was out of character. So out of character that I waited for Camille outside of her second period class jumping up and down and screeching 'Prom dress shopping! Prom dress shopping! We must go prom dress shopping!' and the whole time my outside self, or 'sane bit' looked at my body, shaking its head and sighing inwardly. The craze will pass, though. By Friday I'll be buried in my closet again looking for something I can rip up so I can go as a bum.

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