Party Time

So for the past couple years, I've had this dream of being an event planner. I look at websites like bash, please every day. I have boards full of party ideas on Pinterest. This semester, I'm taking an event planning class with a couple of my friends.

As part of the class, we are in charge of planning one event for the whole class. We decided on throwing a sweet sixteen surprise birthday party for our teacher.

We started with a color palette of mint, black and white. A pretty good idea if I do say so myself.

 We spent hours gathering and preparing everything we needed for the event. 

 

Hayley's mom made the tulle garland with glitter and mint tulle from Hobby Lobby.

We gathered mason jars from DI, friends and family. 

 

We got this banner from Lindi from Love the Day.  I absolutely love it.

Kimmi was able to get cupcakes donated from The Cocoa Bean Cupcake Cafe. We had Madagascar Vanilla Vanilla, Grasshopper and Better Than Whatever.

 

Kimmi also made the most delicious cucumber sandwiches. You take cream cheese, mayonnaise and Italian seasoning and mix it together. You spread that on a baguette and put a cucumber and some seasoning on top. They were a huge hit.

Hayley got green and black candy from Winco and Peppermint Place. We put them in jars we found at DI and wrapped them in ribbon from Hobby Lobby.

Kirsten's mom let us use her lace tablecloths, which added a vintage feel to the whole event. We found the best flowers at Smith's for $5. The final touch were some "presents" wrapped in cheetah and polka dot wrapping paper.

 

The event was a HUGE success. We had speeches and even a Justin Bieber impersonator. Our teacher loved it, and offered to hire us to do her daughter's birthday party next weekend! Keep your fingers crossed.

Photo cred goes to Ali Ann Kirk. And Ryan Gray and my iPhone. 

For more photos, go to Hayley's blog.

What 20-Somethings Want

You want a job, a vacation, heath insurance, validation, a back rub, a scalp massage at the place where you get your haircut, people who are jealous of you, an ex who won’t stop texting you when they’re drunk, Twitter followers, happiness maybe sorta, someone to buy you lunch at a fancy restaurant, a mentor who can tell you what the hell to do with your life, a reliable internet connection, a reliable human connection, a gift card to the grocery store, dinner parties with friends where everyone will pretend to have their crap together for just one night, a nice flirty text message to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life, for everyone to like you even if you don’t like anyone, and one of those nights that doesn’t end till 9 AM and reminds you what it feels like to be young and alive. Oh, and $$$. That’s all. Think you can get that for me? For us?

Source 

I want to know what I'm doing in three months. I want unlimited spending privileges at Target. I want to be able to resist the bag of Cadbury eggs sitting on my kitchen table. I want my boss to like me and I want my hair to be darker.  I want everyone to cheer when I graduate and walk across the stage. I want to sleep for a hundred years. I want to go to Vegas. I want time to just slow down for a second, for everyone to realize that this is the last of everything, at least it is for me. I want people to miss me when I leave. I want to have a big enough handle on life to where my socks match at least half of the time. I want everyone to know how much I love them and how much I worry when they say they want to buy a motorcycle or that they spent too much time in the library.

Is that too much to ask?

So what? I'm still a rockstar

When I was in 7th grade, I auditioned for Woodland Jr. High School's show choir. The auditions involved one day of learning a chereographed dance, one day of learning and singing a group number, and a third day of singing a solo.

I rocked the chereographed dance. (The dance was basically a couple jazz squares and spirit fingers to "Hello Dolly," but whatever. I nailed it.) The group number was easy too. After nine years of Primary programs, I could sing a group version of anything. I was sure I had show choir in the bag.

Then came the solo number. I chose "The Way You Love Me" by Faith Hill. Keep in mind that these auditions fell between the glory years of the boy bands (1997-2000) and my Shania Twain obsession (2002-2004). I think I hear "The Way You Love Me" once on the radio in the dentist's office, so I chose it.

My twelve-year-old heart was thumping as I got up to the microphone. I knew this. I could do it. I had sung this song a million times in my mirror and in front of my mom. This was easy, right? Wrong. As soon as I got in front of the twenty other girls, I froze. I heard the first few twangy bars coming from the tape player and I forced myself to open my mouth.

"If I could grant you one wish, I wish you could see the way you kiss," I whispered in the microphone, awkwardly swaying with the music. I think this was around the time the absurdity of my song choice struck me. I hadn't even hugged a boy and now I was singing about kissing one? I pushed forward, but my voice never really increased in volume.

All the other girls looked at each other and smirked. My choir teacher put her hand to her ear in the international symbol for "I don't care how good you were at the chereographed dance, if you don't get your crap together and sing there is no way I'm letting you in show choir." I struggled through the next two minutes of the song and people politely clapped. I ran back to my seat and hung my head in shame until my mom came to pick me up.

Needless to say, I didn't make it.

Ever since then, though I've had this unstoppable dream of becoming a rockstar. I've sung karaoke and I'm a mean singer in Rock Band, but they have not quenched my desire to sing in front of a thousand screaming fans. I can see myself up there, running up and down the stage, touching my fans' adoring hands, punching the air and letting the crowd sing the lyrics. Maybe even smashing a guitar.


Hayley Williams is my idol.