It’s the day before formal and you are PUMPED.
You got set up with that cute guy who’s a friend of a friend. He seems kind of awk in texts but it’s OK cause he’s cute and you know this because you stalked his Facebook, his ex’s Facebook, and his mom’s Facebook. He’s from Columbia, SC, plays on the club soccer team, broke up with his ex girlfriend over four months ago, and has a dog named Jean. (You make a mental note, though, not to reveal your knowledge of any of this. Only all of your best friends know, but they swore not to spill your pre-formal stalking. You also try to convince yourself this is all normal. Most girls do this too, right? Surely I'm not the only one who stalks this hard?)
Obligatory trip to Ultra Tan the night before. You grab your spray-tan lovin' bestie and ask around the sorority hall if anyone else wants to join.
Everyone knows how you look with a spray tan, and you try to convince some of your sisters to join—Girl, no, this will not make you orange. Promise. Remember how I looked at formal last year? Totally fine.—but for some reason they resist it. Their loss, though, you won't be the one looking washed out in pictures.
It's the day of formal. You wake up extra early to moisturize and set out for the four hour makeup/hair salon session your closest sisters have planned.
Your beauty guru friend spent an hour curling, hair spraying, and teasing your hair in the attempt to look like the Pinterest pic you screen-shotted of Blake Lively. Afterwards you experimented on your friend who asked for a dramatic smoky eye (unfortunately your Naked 2 palette, not you, is to blame for making her look less like Miley Cyrus during her Liam Hensworth years, and more like Lindsey Lohan after a long night out.) She's desperate for some reassurance so you come up with a pretty bad compliment on the fly. The show must go on.
You stay away from greasy food all day.
Withdrawals come quickly. Beautifying is not for the faint of heart. You're over it. You want to wash the cakey foundation off your face and switch your stilettos for Uggs. You want a trip to Cookout.
You hydrate like a champ, drinking plenty of water (or other beverage if you're over 21 if you know what I'm sayin') in order to get that healthy glow.
He's coming to the sorority hall in 5, and you're feeling queasy. You blame this feeling on dehydration, not the butterflies in your stomach, and decide to drink up. You might be questioning Why did I get set up with the cute guy? Why didn't I just take a fun friend? It's too late now to change things though, so you do what you gotta do to mentally prepare yourself for the night.
You casually get some couply-pics just in case this is, in the words of Zac Efron, the start of something new.
After getting some squad pics with your girl gang during the standard hour-long photo sesh, you call your date over (who's probably secretly wishing he had said no to the set up), and you ask him if he would mind posing for some pictures. "My mom asked for a pic of me and my date! (She didn't) Would you mind?" TBH who can say no to moms? Success, you get the Insta you'll post tomorrow morning (or late at night if you're a night 'grammer). Your friends cheer you on from behind the camera.
You get to the function, and in the first five minutes, your date miraculously disappears.
You think he went to find the food but you really have no idea, and there's a big chance he got back on the bus and went home. Yes, you could get upset about this disappearance, but you're not Olivia Caridi stranded on the beach shore, watching Ben drive off on a boat with another girl. You're Taylor Swift at the Grammy's and you're stronger than your date thought you were. You look good, your makeup is on fleek, and you feel hot. His loss.
Your girl gang notices his Houdini act and runs over.
They refuse for this night to be a loss. Hours of planning the night, singeing your hair, and gluing on fake eyelashes will not be all for nothing. No way. So they grab your hand and drag you onto the dance floor, and bust into your routine of Beyonce's half time show.
Successful formal. Now only 365 days until it all has to be done again.
