Alright, kids, fasten your seat belts.  Or maybe even just skip this post.  I honestly don’t consider myself a “girl” most of the time.  Not that I consider myself a man, it’s just my head is a weird place, and I’d like to think I transcend the stereotypically low plane of girldom.  Anyhow, to the title.

I got asked to prom today.

Yup.  Even typing that makes me feel like a girly-girl.  The type of girl that blogs when she gets asked to prom.  The kind of girl who blogs about prom.  Honestly, I cannot stress how foreign this is for me.

I don’t even know how to start.  I guess I can map out two scenarios, but first let me set up the scene.  The boy — let’s call him Marty.  He is really nice.  Um… crap, freakin’ Internet really censors me sometimes.  Unfortunately, Marty is intelligent and has the capability of stumbling upon or even seeking this blog since he already found me on Twitter.  I guess I’ll just say that I have a couple classes with him; we talk.  I’ve talked to him at the raves I’ve mentioned.  He is really intelligent, and sure, he’s awkward, but I can’t plead innocent to that quality either.  I dunno, I guess we are kinda friends, but not really good ones.  It’s really just recently that I had a legit conversation with him, and that was on Facebook, so does it really count?  I could sense that he kinda had a thing for me, but other than him being the opposite sex, I’m really not that attracted to him.  He would be a GREAT guy friend.  That void he could certainly fill.

Scenario Un
I say yes.  But I tell him that it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t tell him that I only like him as a friend, and I want to be better friends.  Give him the option to back out and take a girl who I know wants to go with him.  Stress that.  If we end up going together, I somehow drag Emily along and plant the seed for Jess to ask her, so I’m not alone.  Then I get the fabulous leather dress I’ve been eyeing, go to prom, dance, and then I don’t have to worry about potentially not going next year.

Scenario Deux
I say no.  Do I make up an excuse?  Do I pair it with telling him that I kind of already like someone else, and that I don’t want him to think that I like him?  I suggest he go for another girl.  

Okay, this post was way better in my head.  At least all these thoughts are dumped somewhere.  I feel like I should have confined all this to my diary.  Oh well, the world needs a Marion tidbit every once in a while.

I have a huge binder grade due tomorrow for AP English and History that I need to tackle, so I’m gonna get to that.

Hi.

Also, I want my mother to come home.  The Reese’s I bought yesterday is in her car :[