And with the Spring Formal (I cannot believe I am thirty-three years old and once again going to spring formals, but hey, I’ll take it), the Business School Experience has come to a close. (Well, technically Kendrick doesn’t graduate until next Monday, but I think it’s safe to say that this was officially the last school dance of our lives.) We weren’t even planning to go, but then my mom offered to babysit and to lend me a dress so I didn’t have to go digging through box after box after box in search of a gown that I’m not entirely certain that I even own, and so what the hell:
Spring Formal it was.
You guys, it was SO MUCH FUN. Since it was all very last-minute we decided to just grab dinner on the way up, and we ended up stopping at this completely random Italian restaurant in Port Chester that was straight out of 1956…and not in an ironic way; in a wood paneling and shrimp scampi way. We were the youngest people in there by approximately fifty years. (Obviously I loved it, and ordered the lasagna.)
And then we went to the dance, and drank terrible chardonnay and ate too many olives and danced to Pitbull (I think all songs should be Pitbull songs, always and forever), and I cried a little hugging Kendrick’s best friend (who’s become my friend, too, and who I’m going to miss so much) goodbye. And then we got up the next day and went to Home Depot to look at flooring (which didn’t used to be my idea of a good time, but apparently is now) and it was GREAT.
Just great.
These past two years have been hard, but still: I’m so (so) glad they happened.
On Me: House of Harlow Sunglasses; Mom’s Dress (similar); Steve Madden Heels.
