The Graduation Aftermath...and My Parents Suck
I just got back from graduation; luckily, none of my graduation day fears came to life. I graduated with my name being pronounced correctly, with plenty of applause, and most importantly, without falling down! It was strange...when people graduate, you always hear things like, "Oh, I was so sad because I realized I'd never see these people again," or something of that nature. But strangely, I felt nothing of the kind. I actually felt fine. I mean, when I first got to the auditorium, I was nervous. By the time we sat down, I was just excited. And hell, by the time my name was about to be called, I just wanted to get it over with. And I did; and now I'm a high school graduate :). I didn't think I'd be excited about it, but I am. Yeah, now I can have any job that involves a paper hat.
But this was NOT the greatest night of my life, thanks to my parents. I'll put it this way: Shouldn't an 18-year-old person who's just graduated from high school and has never missed curfew in her life be able to stay out later than one o'clock in the morning? Yes, you read it right: my unreasonable and God-awful parents would not let me stay out past one o'clock in the morning when I told them I was going out tonight. I'm sorry, but if I write any more about this tonight, I'll just piss myself off even more than my parents already have.
Oh, but trust me; this curfew business will be fixed.

Pre-Graduation Jitters
As of tomorrow, I'll be done with high school. No more lockers that have to be kicked - hard - before they'll open, and slammed shut (harder) to close; no more detention (not that I ever had one, I'm such a goody-fuckin-two-shoes, you know); no more SOY BURGERS. Yay.
And I am scared to death. Not because I don't want to leave high school; believe me, I do. And not because I'm afraid of "the real world" (if that's what you call life after high school). No, the reason I'm scared shitless is simple: what if, as I walk across the stage toward my diploma, I trip and fall flat on my ass?
For that matter, what if the announcer guy mispronounces my name? Or nobody claps for me? Or worse yet, all three? What if all three of these terrible and horribly embarressing things happen to me tomorrow, for all the room - and my family - and my boyfriend, who's been out of high school for two years - to see? Okay, happy thoughts, happy thoughts...
Well, paranoia aside, at least I'll look cute tomorrow (when I take off the cap and gown, I mean). Underneath the hideous, blaring red cap and gown, I'm going to wear this very pretty, very classy, muted (not pale or electric or navy) blue strapless dress that my brother picked up for me last year, with white 50-inspired peep-toe heels. I feel better now.
Everything will be fine tomorrow - I hope to God.