18 should come with a warning label


Why am I awake right now?

It’s 3 am. The world is fast asleep and my mind wont shut off.

I’d like to think this is the part of me that turned 18 last night, way too mature for sleep.. but of course its a friday night/saturday morning and I have little homework that needs to be accomplished.

Or little homework I have the motivation for accomplishing.

My birthday was wonderful.  Everything I could have hoped for. Cupcakes and glitter filled cards. Pink envelopes and pink laptop/keyboard covers.

My friends and I had a movie marathon. I wore a lace top and purple shorts.

I was happy.

I bought 2 lottery tickets and broke even, winning $2 back. 

I will go to the mall tomorrow, to return a few items. Which will undoubtedly result in buying a few as well.

I am happy.

I am awake.

Yet it’s 3 am.

Being 18 should come with a warning label, life doesn’t make any more sense than it did when you were 17.

Just go with it.

Allison

Breath of fresh air.


Zumba may or may not be the death of me.. but at least its a creative way to die.

Guys, I ventured out. I went away from my life motto of accessorize instead of exercise and it was a success. I went to Zumba last night. I know there are many other things that would make sense to fill you in on, from a fashion perspective except I really don’t know where to start. I think my physical health sounds good.

I survived 14 songs of ridiculous dance routines and then passed out on my bed as a result. So much for having a life at night… I set an alarm to do home work, I picked out what I was going to wear..

Wow.

Intense.

I have been wearing dresses.. But that’s semi-typical. Today we had Mass of The Holy Spirit, so the dress was more appropriate. I like this whole churchy thing on a daily basis. My closet friends are all faith based, it’s somewhat of a breath of fresh air.

Back to dresses.

First day of school (like I’m 5) I wore a dress. Maroon with bows :). I felt so vintage. It was a forever 21 favorite, that was from our mall trip the day before. I had a bubble  umbrella to top it off. Pearls and class.

Lots of breaths of fresh air… when you are used to people in constant sweat pants and pajama pants.

I did have the issue, that I figured I’d have to begin with.. I have to bring clothes home this weekend. I overpacked, my entire wardrobe. It’s the long weekend though so I’m taing advantage of the opportunity and refilling half the mini van with needless amounts clothing. Maybe I’ll actually feel as if I am moved into my house too once my clothes are there.

I switched roomates. Due to the fact that I do not believe in internet bashing and never know who will read this, I am just going to state that I am very happy with my new rooming scenario. She’s so nice and quiet.

Great change of pace.

I talk on behalf of the both of us.

And I know she is intimidated by my pink, glitter, and chaos on the opposite side of the room, but it will all take time to adjust to.

The homework hasn’t been as hard to adjust to as the social has been. I am not saying I miss my old home town (as previously stated in my last post), I just miss knowing what to expect. The people are all relatively nice though.

Maybe too nice?

I need to stop thinking everyone has ulterior motives. It is ridiculously pessimistic.

Just accept change. Think with loads of optimism. Blast the music.

Take a breath of fresh air.

Allison.

Sometimes I feel like Marilyn Monroe.


It’s almost like anticipating my homework is so much worse than doing it.

I woke up this morning, missed mass at 9 initially so I went to 11, and felt a storm of stress pressing down on me. I let it ruin my day, and sure 90% of my day was filled with homework, but I survived didn’t I?

And I got done more than I expected. Remember that To-do list I posted a few blogs back? Well if you don’t, I suggest you subscribe so that you never miss a beat ;), but I made a dent in that list! *applause*

And now you know what I am making a dent in? Cookies and Cream icecream.

It’s phenominal. Don’t judge me.

My molar? Cap thing? Fell out. And I’ve had a stuffed face (sinuses, nose, and ears haha) for the last what seems like an eternity, so this ice cream feels heavenly and I just had an epiphany. I can actually taste it.

It’s 9:17! I am in AWE to say that it is a high possibility I will not be studying for my business organization quiz (I’ve given up honestly) and will be in bed before nine. After I’m done blabbering about my life and playing Marilyn Monroe by Nicki Minaj  (it’s so good. so easy to relate to, which says a lot from a non-rapp loving preppy)  for the 10th time in a row I believe I am going to move on with my brilliant ideas for fashion camp and gawk at all things glittery on Oriental Trading.

These 9-11 year olds are going to be the most fashionable girls since I was their age.

I’m the one on the end, just in case you’re blind (: and oh, I was in my prime during this photo. Nine and as naive as they come. I’ll take that back any day.

Anybody want to trade? Ask your kids. The only thing I would like is to be allowed to pick out my own clothes. I was never big on someone forcing me into overalls (my mother wasn’t exactly as blessed in the naturally gifted style department as I am…) and I still wouldn’t be.

I do like the pre-matched sets you can buy at Ralph Lauren for girls though.

Very preppy.

Just a note. (;

This photo from Ralph Lauren is how cute I THOUGHT I looked in my roses dress.

Little did I know I would look back on all of my younger wardrobe and not feel the same love. I’m learning with age though, 1/3rd of my wardrobe is absolutely classy.

The other 2/3rds? Are perfect when mixed with the other third but if I was honestly completely happy with my wardrobe, why would I still be making mall trips?

It’s simply coincidental that the fabulous third is all my hand wash and delicates.

Thank God I’m not going away to college. My mother is a wonderful person for addressing those.

(insert imaginary photo of her here, she hates pictures :()

Love you all, almost as much as her.

Allison

Call it a curse, or just call me blessed. If you can’t handle my worst, you aint getting my best. Is this how Marilyn Monroe felt? Must be how Marilyn Monroe felt.