That was a lie. This is what really happened this week:
The day before the day before the day before yesterday: I sat in church and had that "guilty-but-only-cause-I'm-supposed-to-be-feeling-guilty-right-now-but-I'm-totally-not-feelin'-it" feeling. Cause at church you're supposed to think about Jesus and everything He did for us and sing the hymns and stuff. I just couldn't stop thinking about how perfect that boy looked sitting a few rows in front of me. He kills me, really. I love him, let's be honest.
The day before the day before yesterday: I wore the greatest outfit. And felt semi-awesome. Also, I made friends with some strangers, so, you know, that's good.
The day before yesterday: I finally got my roots done. It was so fantastic. Plus, I read gossip magazines and listened to Glee covers of songs and talked about boys with my hairdresser whom I love. I also found a book on my English teacher's shelf entitled "The Indispensable Guide to Classic Mens Fashion" and read nearly the entire book. It was full of questions like, "How do I dress like Fred Astaire?" ("Have your trousers tailored so that they fall above the sock line. Then, wear socks that match your shirt. Arrive with confidence. Though, mostly, you'll never be as classy nor as generally awesome as Mr. Astaire, so why are you even really trying?")
Yesterday: I spent all of Journalism looking at the J. Crew Spring '11 collection for the billionth time. Then I looked through their wedding collection. Which reminded me of Vera Wang. Which reminded me of Vogue. 50s silhouette is in, folks, and skinny jeans are out. Minimilistic is classy - instead of "remove one accessory before you leave this house" it's "remove all but one accessory."
Today: The stars are unaligned and, of course, everything has been weird. Which I should've expected due to the alignment of the stars (or lack thereof). Weird things have been happening. As in, ultra-weird. I was told I am good at math and acing quizzes I was supposed to fail and everything feels a bit like a dream. I don't really know what's going on, but I think I like it.
One day: I'm going to walk up to him and say,
"Turns out I'm in love with you. Do you love me, too?"
Write in your diary.
All my love,
*Stole that bit from Avery. Not my own creation.