Saturday, June 5, 2001
This morning I woke up at 6am, with plenty of time before the ceremony. I hopped in the shower, then blow-dried my wet blonde hair for fifteen minutes. Since it was still frizzy, I took another fifteen using my straightener.
Finally, I sat down in front of my bedroom mirror. See I'm really picky about my makeup: I always do it in exactly the same order. First comes foundation. Then the eyeshadow - I picked a soft lavender for today. Next the eyeliner and mascara- solid black as always. Then rosy blush, and finally red Colorstay lipstick.
The final touch was my outfit. Even though whatever I wore would be hidden under my hideous blue school robe, the clothes still had to be perfect. After twenty minutes in my closet, thinking about my options, I decided on a pink lacy tank top with a little matching jacket, and an adorable little white skirt. Now the look was complete.
After spraying "Beautiful" perfume, I headed downstairs to eat breakfast. Luckily, it was still early so no one else was up yet so I could enjoy my food in silence. I had a healthy breakfast like always: green tea with two pieces of toast.
Once I finished I left a quick not for Mom and Dad. "Gone to John's house. Meet you at the stadium. -Angela."
All we did at John's was chill for a couple hours. We watched a little TV, then made out on his couch. Lucky for me, my lipstick actually was kissable, just like the Revlon commercial advertised.
Anyway, the ceremony went fine. They called my name, I smiled the happiest fake smile I could pull off, walked across the stage, and that was that. Afterwards, my parents just couldn't stop talking. They were "oh so proud," and overwhelming excited. Even though Mom and I don't get along (at all) she was acting like we did - she was just, like, over the top crazy.
Afterwards, we went to lunch at some Japanese place nearby. As we sat waiting for the food it was totally awkward. John and I were sitting on one side, next to his ancient grandparents, and across from us were both sets of parents.
Conversation pretty much centered on what we were going to do next, where we wanted to go from here.Well, John taking a year off and me going to beauty school, didn't exactly sit well with anyone. Everyone just kept trying to push us to do more. Even without saying it directly, our parents were basically calling us idiots. You know what I say to that? Screw them.
John and I will be fine. We already are fine. We're going to rent an apartment together - he already has a job and I plan on getting one soon. Of course, Mom and Dad are freaked about the whole sleeping together issue. I'm not worried though, because I'm not stupid. I'll have sex when I'm ready to have sex. Ooh and the way John's eyeing me right this second, I might be ready now.
I'm sitting here in Paris, in a wonderful fluffy bed, with my true love sleeping right beside me. I've definitely undergone a character change, because I haven't slept with Jason once yet. Luckily nothing did happen that night with John, so now I'm determined to save myself until I get married.
Gosh, I really used to be so different. Reading these journals now, it's strange. I get swept away to my old life that I can barely remember. Because of the accident, my memories are scarce. All I know is that Emily was right: I was a bitch.
But today I'm not. I've completely changed. Made a one hundred and eighty degree turn. I think it's time to look at another page. This one was written after the accident.
January 23, 2003
I have to remember. If I want to keep my sanity, I must remember. It was nice weather that night, a cool June breeze blew across my back as I walked up to the front door. It was my best friend Summer's house. Her parents were out of town on business - they'd just flown out after the graduation ceremony, so she decided to hose a huge party for all of the cool and elite seniors.
I knew there was going to be beer so I was prepared - I should probably say excited - to get drunk. My boyfriend John was there and I ran to greet him as soon as Summer let me in.
"Hey sexy thing," was the first thing out of his mouth. He scrutinized my tight silver miniskirt and low-cut black top as I did a little spin for him.
"Well hey you," I said, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips.
"Would you like to dance Miss?" he asked in a teasing tone.
"Sure, I'd love to."
So we got out on the dance floor, under the glittering disco ball and the blaring music. My strappy stilettos made me feel like every girls dream - John was a lot taller than me to start with, so our heights balanced out perfectly. We only danced for a few minutes, then it was time to go get wasted.
When the party was over, it was about 2am. My Christi offered to drive me home. She was completely sober - probably the only one there - and she refused to let me get in either my car or John's.
"Honey, you're comin, with me," I think was what she said. "No way in hell I'm gonna let you drive and get yourself in some wreck."
"Mm-hmm," I uttered, leaning on her shoulder as she opened the passenger door.
Little did Christi know, it was dangerous to be the road early that morning...even if you weren't drunk.
As I read this I could feel goose bumps all over my arms. I had to keep going.
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