+1=18 and I'm proud of a piece of paper.

I gave myself forty-five minutes to get ready, but we were still running late on the way out.

I don't really have a group of senior girl friends, so I ended up sitting next to my best friend from 2nd to the beginning of 8th grade.

Her fingernails were painted silver and mine were gold, less because of school spirit and more because of my gold shoes that went with my navy dress.

I want to say that the difference in our metallic preferences was what caused us to grow apart, but we both wore silver in those days.

We didn't talk, but I kind of wish we did.

I guess my friends yelled as I walked to get my not-diploma, but I didn't hear until I had already walked down the other side.

I was born at an unremarkable time, around 10:30 am, but no applications ever ask for birthtime. 18 years later, we sang the last fight song and I felt no nostalgia.

My dad said that my hair looked pretty today, and I realized that he probably tells me about my physical beauty more often than he calls me smart, and that makes me wonder why.

He might think I'm more secure about my intelligence than my looks, but I guess that's probably true.

Still, something about being praised for the appearance that occurred 75% naturally rather than what I've worked to gain and maintain doesn't sit well with me.

amethyst wine said hi to me at the PF Chang's after graduation despite the fact that my lipstick had long ago become little more than glorified lip liner, and I hate that inevitable stage of lipstick usage.

I had planned to go to Priscilla Belle's open house because she promised food, but then I laid down on my bed and fell asleep in the middle of a text for a few hours. Sorrrrrrrryyyyyyyyy Sarrrraaaahhhhhhh

I didn't go to the all night party, but I did stay out until one and stuffed my face with potato chips, so.

The plane to Florida was still long after I finished Looking for Alaska, so I wrote a poem about several things and also nothing, but I really only like half of it, so maybe I'll publish it when I edit it when I have a real keyboard.

#selfiepotter with my mama.

Butterbeer is the shit, even though I'm pretty sure it's really just cream soda with marshmallow and heavy cream on top.

My mom bought me a Slytherin shirt and it's bringing me great joy.

I was debating, the past few days, whether or not to change my display name for this blog or just keep it as Alis, but I guess you all already know me, or my name at least, so.

Also, thanks to Icarus and pleasefindmehere for the birthday wishes. They made me immeasurably happy. I actually super love you guys, so, stay sweet. #yearbookmessages

The summer blog list is making me smile so far, and I wish all of you with the pen names would trust us enough to tell us your names, but I guess that'll come with time. Btw, all these new blogs are fantastic. (The old blogs are, too, but I'm pretty sure I've already told you all how much I love you.)

Nels, thanks for letting us do this. My summer isn't really going to be a summer, so thank you for the chance to share.

--Erin