Christmas á la Layra

I tried to get into the Christmas mood. I really did. But all I found was purple tinsel. And it was also the day Vlogmas ended.

GRADUATION BALL!!

That is right, everyone!

Time has arrived.

Curiosity won't kill the cat.

It is now.

You can all finally read about this very, very special, once-in-a-lifetime event, which I have mentioned so many times before, yet never truly discussed. You can finally read about my graduation ball, this impatiently awaited celebration, which I had been dreaming about every second night, which didn't go unmentioned for a single day, which ultimately did live up to my expectations and become an experience that will be etched into my memory until the moment of my death. Or at least that's the plan.

So, now that I've got that painful introduction off my chest, I shall first recount you all a little background information, so that you guys actually know what I am blabbering about. First things first: graduation ball is not the same as a prom, or even a Leaver's Ball, or a formal. As a matter of fact, it is not even called graduation ball in Hungarian (we just called it that at my former school, BIS), but "Szalagavató", which literally translates to "inauguration of ribbons". Why ribbons? In Hungary, it's a tradition for seniors to receive a ribbon, with the school's name and the year of graduation on it, which they then wear as a badge for the rest of the year. To help you visualize it, here is mine:

(taken with phone, don't lecture me on the overexposure)

Now, the ribbon pinning is meant to be the most important part of the ceremony, but at some point in history, an actual ball part - you know, with dancing et al - was added, and ever since, whenever high school students or their parents or anybody else thinks about grad ball, they think about the waltz. The waltz, which girls dance in wedding dresses, and guys dance dressed as penguins, to make it fair to everyone. Yep. You think that's all, though? Think again, as once again at a certain point in history, somebody decided that a single dance performance was not enough, so individual class dances are now performed as well.

Yep. That's right. It's kind of a huge deal. And I haven't even mentioned the after-party yet.

So how did all this mayhem materialize when it came to MY graduation ball? Well, my friends, the time has come for you to find out. Now, you shall see a timeline of events:

8:00 AM: Pulling my carry-on luggage behind me and holding a large, purple sack containing my beautiful dress, I hop into my grandpa's car and drive out of town, onto the motorway, leaving my wondrous capital city behind in order to find the very special sports arena with the cheap rent that is to be my home for the day. 

8:30 AM: I turn up. I lock the car and head inside, but only after dropping the contents of my bag in the parking lot and having to climb under a car to retrieve my phone charger. Why did I even bring a phone charger? Anyway, nothing unexpected has happened yet.

9:10 AM: This changing room is tiny. It's also really, really hot. I have a feeling that the school might have accidentally rented a sauna for us to change in.

9:30 AM: Dress rehearsal commences. My tutor and substitute tutor have baked us cake, and instead of pinning our ribbons, they hand us brownies! They are the sweetest, and I want to hug them. The teachers, not the food.

10:00 AM: Rehearsal of my speech. Everything's good, I am convinced that I will ace this. Little do I know what is waiting for me...

 ~~fast forward (a.k.a. I don't have a vague idea about what happened in these next couple of hours)~~

13:00 PM: Waltz rehearsal, stylishly late. These dancing shoes they gave me are murdering my feet. It's a slow and painful death. Also, all the girls are wearing their underskirts, and we look ridiculous. I am no way going to dance in these shoes. The skirt will hide my feet. How does that Patti Smith song go? "I'm dancing barefoot..."

1:30 PM: Let's take five! Let's take five! Now!

2:00 PM: Make-up session. I spent about $50 on this foundation, and I bought a separate brush for it. It better be good.

2:05 PM: Two possibilities: A) Estée Lauder foundation is crap and I wasted all my money. B) Estée Lauder foundation is good, only I don't know how to use it.

2:50 PM: Make-up done. Not even all the tears and sweat can ruin my look. Only my false eyelashes are falling off, but I've kindly asked the make-up artist lady to fix it for me. I should probably offer to pay for it, but I have no cash left thanks to...

3:00 PM: The hairdresser! She pulled half of my hair out the last time, but she is actually doing a decent job now. My hair looks like that of a normal person. I mean...kind of. Yeah, only kind of.

4:30 PM: I put the uniform on, but my head doesn't fit through and my hairpin gets caught in a thread and disaster follows...

5:00 PM: I phone my mom impatiently, and scream at her. They'll be late and all the good seats will be taken. And then they won't be able to take good pictures of me, which I then won't be able to upload to Facebook hang on my wall.

5:30 PM: People are arriving. People are weird. I'm starting to worry that someone else will have black lace on her dress as well. Because these are the things I worry about. Not the fact that I have to submit a university application the following day. That's right.

6:00 PM: People have arrived! Everyone is here! Yay! Yaaay! LET THE SHOW BEGIN!

6:15 PM: We emerge  on the basketball court on stage, triumphantly snake around for a minute, then take a seat. You guys, it's happening! It's real!

Tryin' so hard not to fall over.

6:40: PM It's time for our pinning! I think I'm about to get emotional...I think I'm about to start sobbing. I don't have any tissues with me. My name is called. My portrait appears on the screen. I take a deep breath, and step forward.

(I'm the one on the left if you couldn't tell...those three words are my name)

The moment the needle penetrates my collar...

6:50 PM: Time has come for my speech! It's OK. I'm not even worried. I've rehearsed it several times, and it went well. Who are we kidding, I even know it by heart! I begin speaking...I'm through three sentences, but then...am I sure this is coming next? I pause. I look at my transcript. I frantically search for the part where- I lost my line I- I- sh*t, I should probably speak on. Sh*t, I just messed up my speech. Dammit. It's all gone wrong. Breathe. Breathe. Continue.

Appearance: calm. Reality: panic & hysteria.

6:52 PM: I finish my speech and traumatized, I walk back to my class. They did not just stick their tongues out at me, did they? Horrible, horrible people. I love them.

7:00 PM: We stride out and prepare for our class dance, and this is when I lose track of time... In between changing and actually getting to perform, this guy from our class and I do a chicken dance along the corridor, at a certain point and for no apparent reason I declare my love for him, I get yelled at for deciding not to go to the after-party, and I realize that said guy is about to put me on his shoulders during the dance. Oh well...

Between 7 and 8 PM: Our class dance!!! The concept is convicts and lawyers, and no, it wasn't my idea. I wanted flappers and cops, and Charleston music. We are wearing stupid fake plastic glasses and I can't see a thing. The guys have stupid fake nylon tattoos and they don't look too comfortable either. I also don't think the shirts we're wearing are made for dancing. An arm raise is enough for this performance to turn inappropriate. Here's what's happening:

Yep. In retrospect it looks pretty cool, I must admit. After performing our dance two times, so that it's visible for both sides of the audience, we sit down and enjoy this little video about our five years at this school. I notice that I appear significantly few times in it. Oh well...

This is my only noticeable appearance in the video, and I look as if I had just come back from a jog. I know it's a USC hoodie, but still. 

About 8:30 PM: OK, so unbeknownst to us, our marvelous teachers have also prepared a dance performance. This night is getting better. The two teachers who actually have doctorates enter wearing lab coats and stethoscopes, and the rest of the staff shuffle in, all wrapped in towels and demonstrating convincing acting skills by playing ailing old people. Geronto-dance! Rad! But wait what...why are they undressing? I might not want to see this after all. What the-

Oh right. Cue ABBA music. Dressed for the seventies. I'm lovin' it. I told you I'm lovin' it.

9:00 PM: Time has come for what we've all been waiting for. The waltz. I'm suffocating. There is no air in the changing room, and my corset is compressing my ribs. At the dress salon, they told me I'm supposed to feel "delicate" in this. I don't, I feel more like a whale. The diameter of the dress is inversely proportional to the diameter of my corset. As one gets smaller, the other gets larger, and I must say that my corset is minuscule.

9:10 PM: I will let the pictures speak. 

(Also, if you're new to my blog, I booked that dress in April. Nobody books dresses in April. I loved that dress. Nobody had a dress like that. I have eternal love for that dress. That. Dress.)

9:30 PM + Meet and greet. I waltz with all of my family members and take pictures with all my friends and try to not step on my dress. That dress...It's gotten kind of busy and thousands of people are crammed on this poor basketball court and I can't find anybody I'm looking for and I keep bumping into people who demand photos with me, but that's OK. It's OK, because I'm crying a little bit, and I have an urge to hug everyone I see. I love these people, I do. And in a couple of months, we'll graduate and I'll probably never see them again. We just danced our goodbye waltz. We looked so beautiful tonight. We probably are, too. All the time. Only, we don't notice it. We're too young to notice...

A while ago, I wrote a song for graduation ball. It's really, really trite, and really, really unlike me, but for an occasion such as this one, that doesn't really matter. It was such an elating experience, dancing there in those swishy, sparkling ball gowns, proudly standing there as they pinned my ribbon, dancing with all the people I've grown to adore. Anyway, I digress. I once wrote this incredibly cheesy song, and it goes something like this:

"This is our night,

Then we'll have to let it all go
We'll have to fight

And not just go with the flow

We'll start our flight

And we'll learn how to cope

'Cause we've survived

And we're unstoppable now..."

Yeah, that song is even worse than I remembered.

*Note: Most of these pictures were taken by my family members, but some were taken by the relatives of my friends. I've done my best to separate the photos based on their sources, but it's gotten a bit mixed up. I'd like to thank everybody who took the time to take pictures, and I'll always be grateful for all the effort put into taking them. 

Updates! Updates! Updates! (So Much Has Happened)

The following things have happened in these past few weeks (in ascending level of importance):

1) I got a 91% Higher Level Matura exam in German, so I no longer have to attend German classes.

Also, 100% speaking test, just to brag a little. Though I've already forgotten everything in these past few weeks.

2) I went to Vienna.

I didn't take any good pics, so this will have to suffice.

The Miró exhibition is the best. I also totally broke the rules and took about fifty photos of the Picasso & Monet exhibition. Hashtag badass. Otherwise, I spent the rest of the day counting all the poor guys forced to advertise iPhone 6 with huge signs on their backs, and shopping at Forever 21. Which is, lets face it, the reason I went in the first place.

3) I got my last ever SAT score back and it's good!!

25th percentile --> 94th percentile

Confession: I still have no idea about what linear regression is.

4) I submitted my application to Vandy, Kenyon and USC!!

Those little green check marks...

The relief! The relief! The fear! The fear, knowing that it's out of my hands now.

5) GRADUATION BALL (separate post to come)

(New profile picture with already 50+ likes. I didn't know I even had that many friends on Facebook.)

Yeah, so that's it in short. Your curiosities have been satisfied. Be on the lookout for a grad ball post.