Steps of Finding the "Perfect" Gala Dress

So guys, I'm graduating and obviously there's the senior gala. Well, with the gala comes the terrifying process of choosing the dress you want to wear. Being a girl like me, picky and annoying, this process is not your average day in the mall. Let me take you on a fun ride down the gala choosing lane.

1. Walk around the mall with a disgusted face expression. "Shu hayda?" "Leh killo sequins?" Two things repeated by me probably around a million times. My mom had to refrain from rolling her eyes at me every 5 seconds or else it wouldn't have ended well for the both of us. Anger level: 1.

2. Walk into a store. I absolutely hate it when the saleswoman follows me around. If I need help I'll ask, I swear! She hovers around me until I end up hating the dress I would have otherwise loved. I walk out of the store, disappointed. Anger level: Borderline 2.

3. Grab Pinkberry. I think everyone at this point deserves a break. My mom probably deserved it more than I did but hey who's blaming anyone right? Anger level: subsiding.

4. Embark on another journey around the mall. Why walk around the mall once when you can see every single vitrine twice?! Right?! Am I right?! Anger level: Definite 3 with a hysterical smile.

5. Enter the store you know you should have entered hours ago but simply chose to have hope for the others you never usually enter. Anger level: OMG I LOVE THIS DRESS, back to 2.

6. Grab a bunch of dresses and enter the dressing room with your mom tottering behind you knowing what's coming. Anger level: One of these dresses better look good.

7. Too big. Too small. Too long. Too short. Too revealing. Too see-through.

Mom's anger level: Ryan Gosling.

8. Fall in love with a dress, it's beautiful, just not my size. Anger level: Fast and Furious to the other branch.

9. Try it on again impatiently, it works. Anger level: PRAISE THE LORD!

10. Walk around the mall victoriously, teach them to mess with this girl! Anger level: Blair Waldorf.

Hair Salon Mishap

Hey guys! I'm back, been a really long time. This new post is actually a bit of a rant and it addresses most hair salons. You walk into the hairdresser's looking for some time off to relax and get yourself ready for the weekend. You approach the reception desk telling the lady behind it that yes your hair does need a wash then you proceed to take a seat. Little did you know all the chairs are white. Full-on  white from top to bottom. This would be fine any other day except this one. It's that time of the month again and you have to be perched on a white chair for the next hour or two. You sit in one position afraid to move and perhaps discover damage. Then as you get up, you subtly throw a glance at the little space your tush was taking on the seat. A horrified look is plastered on your face regardless of the outcome. Most of the time you leave victoriously,  nothing happened and you survived another time of this.

BUT COME ON HAIR SALONS! This is a hair salon for women, why on earth are your chairs white?! It defies the purpose.

#nomorewhitechairsmovement