It's clear to see I'm a style icon; remember, you can't spell icon without "con."
I love clothes, accessories, and makeup as much as the next lady, man, French bulldog in a sweater, or child whose parents dressed her in a couture Halloween costume...
I have a limited amount of time to spend with you right now. But trust me that this cinched time we have isn't a waist. See, I'm calm: I'm still making puns. I've been stupid-busy, Diary. The combination of my normal class schedule together with my secret fight against the anticlassist schedule has been a difficult balance. I never thought I'd spend my first few weeks at the MOA leading a "material" militia, but here I am!
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Tonight in the BFF (the Brain Fart Fort—I know, I wish the acronym was different, too), a familiar voice came from the shadows saying they'd been waiting for a sign. That voice was Dr. Scholls's.
I didn't understand what was happening. I thought I had eaten some undercooked pork from Benihana and was having a very unimpressive fever dream as a result of food poisoning. But Dr. Scholls continued to talk with me. He grabbed my drawstrings and started to lead me away, and when I looked back at Birk and Rees, they looked like they were trying to ignore the fact that I'd just audibly farted. And that's when I knew this conversation between Dr. Scholls and me wasn't an accident.
Dr. Scholls told me that G-Wind had made sure that he knew I wasn't dumb, and given that, he should expect me to have suspicions as to why all of this cloak-and-dagger stuff was happening. I said, "Well, obviously it has something to do with Black Friday?" Everyone in the BFF shivered. I looked at them and said, "Oh, you're surprised? Have you really not read my diary!? Get real, misshapen Crocs, I know you have!"
Dr. Scholls continued to try to calm me down. He said that I had a much bigger purpose here than taking classes. He could see that I had the same seemingly passive but completely aggressive attitude as my G-Wind and that that was the fire they needed once again to lead their revolution.
"Again?" I asked.
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And then Dr. Scholls went into a very sweet story about G-Wind. It was a story G-Wind had never told me. A story of their passion and their fashion. When they were freshmen at the MOA, they were department-crossed lovers, connected by their determination to assert fabric freedom. G-Wind was in Nordstrom and he was in a Sears department store, but they quickly formed a close bond when they passed each other every Wednesday in the hallway on the way to different body-splash seminars. Eventually, G-Wind threw a note at Dr. Scholls asking him to meet her behind the Alpaca Connection. And that's where their relationship began.
