i blame john hughes for everything. like, i’m pretty sure he invented the saying “high school: the best years of your life!” if you are still experiencing those awkward years, then, i’m sorry to break it to you, but - they are most likely going to be the worst years of your life. i’m not going to go into details about how you think you need to participate in extra-curricular activities (who really cares about football anyways?) be on the “in” with the popular crowd (and you thought jennifer connolly was lost in labrynth? think again.) and have the perfect prom date (you see, john hughes makes it seem that blane, jake, and andrew are the perfect dates but i’m just going to go ahead and tell you right now that your best friend is the actual dream date). no, this has nothing to do with that. this is about the biggest fictional piece of crap ever written. you see, john hughes loved to brainwash mousy girls into thinking they will end up with the school stud. cut. the. crap. in real life caroline would never in a million years of even looked at ted. never in a million years would jake ryan think it was cool that samantha baker looked at him, he’d think it was C R E E P Y. lucky me, i am immune to the john hughes syndrome. correction: i was immune to the john hughes syndrome. the football quarterback just happens to be in one of my classes and i flipped. like, i'm running around telling literally everyone that we were to be married - flipped. my mistake that sealed the deal for john hughes to ruin my life was just an ordinary day when i was sitting in class having a panic attack (yes, i did say ordinary.) i left the classroom to, uh, paste holographic rainbow stickers all over the hallway? not falling for it? whatever, but i left class and eventually i had to go back and when i opened the door we locked eyes and i SWEAR time stopped, my hair rustled in the non-existent wind and i am telling you i heard “I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight” playing in his head. i swear on my dogs life and the only thing i love more than my dog is my mom. so then i sat back down hiding behind my hair and my great-grandfathers sweater when it hit me that i was just like allison “the basketcase” reynolds. so then i put a little more thought into it and thought about how she ends up with andrew “the athlete” clark in the end. then, with a little more thought i realized that in my particular instance, andrew, was actually blane. which led to the conclusion that I would have to have a drastic make-over and blane would ask “what happened to you?” and then i’d make this awkward face that is extremely unattractive and then blane would say “no, i like it” and then we would fall in love and live happily ever after. every day since i have watched “the breakfast club”, “sixteen candles”, “pretty in pink”, and “some kind of wonderful” obsessively filled with butterflies that the nobody ended up with the somebody. so thank you john hughes, for ruining my life. i have convinced myself that it really will happen when in reality i will probably never even say “hi” to him. and thank you, john hughes, for turning my pathetic forlorn love life into a social experiment.
Exhibit A: My Great-Grandfathers Sweater.
you need a little sheer in your life though, you gotta look like a girl in some form.
Exhibit B: Hair, THE Perfect Hiding Spot - Double Points for Hand Hidage (yeah, i just made that up) Too.
Exhibit C: No 80's Freak is Complete Without Doc Marten.
i was going to include a little 80's playlist for you but this just seemed like a better idea: