1. Baccalaureate came. The church bells of Seven Sorrows rang at ten o'clock to usher in a limited amount of family to watch as the bishop consecrated the class of 2009. It truly was nothing spectacular, in considering last year's mass in the cathedral. I felt nothing different, accept maybe how it felt to be a bluebarry. The kid behind me, throughout mass, cat called to another peer a few rows up about being a faggot; the joys of baccalaureate.
2. Hershey High School's prom at Hotel Hershey. In all regard to the ridiculous amount of money spent for the evening, I remain true to the Bisch in that McDevitt kids know how to party hardy, unlike Hershey kids. I spent the night dancing with the black folk, breakin' it down and all, as well as partaking in boxed wine as my baby-sitter (who is now 23, and is still the love of my life) broke into prom, met me on the dance floor during the raive portion of the night, and then proceeding to walk with me in a long search about the hotel grounds for matches. Following was the final half hour of the dance, which included a fiesta, complete with tambourines and other shakers, a rock portion with blow up guitars, a dance to the Slumdog Millionaire song, my date and I leading the dance floor in Cotton Eye Joe (filled with my futile attempts in calling on camaraderie with shouts of '09! and SENIORS!), and finally, a slow dance to Beyonce's song Halo. Then came buzzed driving under the speed limit, a boring bonfire that was essentially Mattbarry receiving bewildered stares due to his story telling and 'Indian cigarette' smoking (some douche thought that cloves not only smelled like pot, but also gave you the same high as marijuana ((also, this same douche thought that his 20 year old cigars that he stole from his father's sock drawer would 'put hair on your chest' when, in actuality, they tasted like the smell of sour kitty litter))). Needless-to-say, I cut out of that early and speedily drove the back roads of Hershey, where I encountered a beautiful deer, it's lamp-like eyes shining in my high beams. The boredom continue as I attended my neighbor's (the house of my babysitter) 'party'. I say 'party' because it was a mere eight kids playing weak games of pong. By this point of the evening I was too tired to care about making an impression, so I bounced out after an hour and after some smoke. I wish I could say the night ended there, but, I walked home only to eat two slices of pizza and my leftovers of spicy Thai peanut noodles and retell the aforementioned (give or take) to my mother, for an hour. Time moved slowly. My face was flush with intoxication. I wanted to watch Atonement.3. Graduation Party Hop. All I really wanted to do was attend ArtsFest and listen to Taylor Mead. Instead, after returning my twenty four dollar tux I went to the Smith party. Extreme moonbounce obstacle course racing ensued. The drunk college grads won. Then the Erb party. I wasn't invited, and so, felt extremely awkward through the three hours I was there. In all seriousness, I only went so I could see his house, which is just as fantastic as all stories told described; various hard woods lead you about a country home filled with delicious food, eclectic, yet minimal decoration, and a dining room with a wall that is solely a glass case filled with antiquey goodness, and a table laden with desserts. After inviting Allison to partake in her first clove, I bounced to a midnight Eraserhead with Tilahunny and Dax. I wanted to curl into a ball and die after said movie.
4. Graduation Party Hop part deux. Rather than church, I spent two hours carving a book box from a stolen choir missal. God punished me severely for such, as it was the most expletive inducing piece of craftwork. The paper quality was horrendous, shredding with every other cut. In the end I ventured half way into its depths, calling it quits by wrapping it in newspaper and writing HAPPY MOTHA FUCKIN' 18TH BIRFDAY COLIN on it's front. Then, the Garland party, which included an ample helping of delicious pasta salads and fruit, waiting for the douchey kids to get out of the pool, getting in the pool, blindly and terribly attempting to play Keep Up with a volley ball, and then bouncing out to the York party. Let me tell you, the York Family knows how to through a fantastic party. It was on their drive way off of 2nd Street in Highspire, complete with pig roast, keg, and an open mic with ridiculous backyard sound system. I spent the time idling in the grass, arguing with Kara and listening to drunken uncles croon over the mic. Again, fantastic. Then a drive through a wall of rain including a naked girl in my front seat, back to the Garland's for more swimming. Then Coldplay.
5. Coldplay. Beginning as a complete, as Major Barry would say, 'cluster fuck', the evening became a quality time spent joyously splinting my shins leaping up and down the Hershey hill. I don't think I stopped. Pair that with some experimental photography (1. Becca Delp, 2. Ellen Harvey) and the coin of me as a gazel, and you have a brilliant end to an evening. 6. ArtsFest. Finally. Artsy consumer
goodness tastes delicious.7. Graduation. It speaks for itself.
Summer has yet to start and already the list is filled with accomplishments. It's awesome to know I can fit so much in so little time. And still there is so much to come (for today):
8. Picture collecting, framing, and crayon making, as well as other gifts for Carole Scott Bush. Add thank you postcards (complete with personal portfolio art) to graduation attendees, and invitations for my own grand grad party, and a dailie (hopefully).
9. Senior Week. I leave sunday. I have to grocery shop. I need sandals from Old Navy. I have to go to the bank. I need to shave. I have to clean the car.
10. House work, because, what day would be complete in the Barry household without housework, which includes, and is not limited to, laundry, a scouring of the kitchen, planting and mulching, and a desperately needed cleaning of my bedroom.
11. I want to finally stop at MetroPhoto and ask if they can develop my hawk eye from '64.
It's now 2:10 and my plate of cheese, wheat thins and pea pods is empty.
There is one half hour and two minutes with some seconds left until he leaves for an evening that is just as usual as many other evenings that have been planned. He will pick up his best friend, watch her nonchalance sidle by the windshield before she gracefully sets herself in the black interior of Cecilia. He will drive the two of them out to a restaurant on 22, because everything is located on 22, where they will meet however many other people and where he will spend the money he doesn't have on food he may not really enjoy because he'll think about the free food he could 
