And the winter formal queen is…

Standard

Tonight was my first dance. Now I’ve attended a few high school dances in my day–actually, maybe as many equally as a high schooler and as an adult–but tonight was the first dance that I faciltated and pretty much managed. The senior cabinet chose the menu, decorated the venue (the très posh Castaway Restaurant, with the amazing view of Burbank—its at the top of what I would consider a very, very large hill, and the site of where my friend Kars got married. Also note how I got the accent marks to appear against my french words! whoa!), facilated the campaigning, while I made sure that the money flowed accordingly and well, their job is done, while my part is still going (getting checks out to the DJ, school police, and the restaurant, as well as thank you cookies to the amazing chaperones). Despite a tad bit of drama involving a student who apparently had harrased a teacher, and was not supposed to be at the dance (could someone have gotten me that memo!) but who was there anyway, as well as some of our more proper teachers being shocked by the language in some of the songs (I’d never heard the uncensored version of “Ain’t no fun” until tonight…and all those kids knew the words) and the slightly provocative, but not nearly as bad as what I saw at prom, dancing. Its interesting being the go to person for every detail of an event. So many times I just had no idea what the answer to a question was (for example, where is the Steven Spielberg table? I had no fucking clue), and having to improvise my way through the night. But everything else was so smooth and put together that it made it easier to make it all pull together. I also go to see different sides of the administrators i work with. I think i’m learning something more about myself. I got to meet the friend of a co-worker. I also realized that, really, I have nothing to say that is really worth saying. nothing interesting that I find value in. goodness. it just feels trite, gossipy, lacks substance and definition- at work at least. its just me i’m sure. i don’t know what i want to talk about. i’ve come to realize that i don’t know what i want. i have no fucking clue. i think for some people that is comforting–exciting, that every day will be something new. I just find it chaotic. Like, what the fuck? I need to chill.

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