11th
I’m marrying Jake Ryan in 5 weeks
In high school I remember always hoping for my “Pretty in Pink/Sixteen Candles” moment where the hot cool guy (except mine wasn’t a rich dick like Jake Ryan or Blane [that’s a toaster that’s not a name], more hippy/surfer boy/etc.) suddenly realizes that I’m super pretty and awesome one day - most likely due to an outfit and/or a when they find out I LIKE THEM (never worked) - but see I was a freak and despite many awesome (admittedly strangely retro and bizarre combined with my dyed punk red hair) outfits - those cool hippy boys never liked me back.
Well, in 5 weeks I’m marrying that cool hippy boy - and without an awesome outfit change or anything. Oh yeah - locked him in - locked that mother fucker in. 5 weeks people. 5 WEEKS until I’m married. To Jake Ryan.
The key is to find a really sweet, admittedly dysfunctional, Jake Ryan. And to be 30 and not in high school. And to have been on Accutane when you were 19.
And to have more natural looking hair.
Whatever.
5 weeks = marrying hippy-Dylan loving-cuter than but same idea-Jake Ryan.
Fuck yeah.
