Soiree was on Saturday night, and everyone went into it with preconceived notions passed down by seniors prior. As Summer teaches us, what you expect is never how it really is. Put on The Smiths and see how things really unfolded.*
Expectations:
- Senior A — Don’t know what I’m gonna wear, but know I’m gonna get wasted.
- Senior B — Classy and trashy.
- Senior C — I will find the perfect dress that makes me feel both like an emerging adult and like a child at heart and I will dance the night away.
- Senior D — “Oh my god I’m so excited but this year is going by so fast! / HELP SATAN FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK SATAN AAAAAAHH I DON’T WANT TO DIE”
- Senior E — “mayeb i will get blisters on my feet but food and fun and friends are worth it i think”
- Senior F — Moist and mighty, like Moaning Myrtle’s last stand.
- Senior G — I expect Soiree to be like an Inaugural Ball: I am Michelle Obama, and Beyonce is serenading me, and being “escorted out” by “campus safety” for “stripping” will never change that.
- Senior H — OMG. Soiree has all the elements of a popular story. It reeks of all-Americanness, tension and drama. It has romance. Pretty dresses. Dancing. Limos. College. Coming of age. I can’t wait for senior soiree.
Reality: