Pash and I are driving approximately 102 miles an hour to get to Austin in time for our Roller Derby baptism. We scam Pash’s parents with a heartwarming tale about two girls who love rooting for their high school football team so much they can’t bear to miss the season opener against Killean High, two hours away. Since being a “normal American teenager” trumps all in the immigrant Amini household, they agree to extend Pash’s car curfew to one A.M. which gives us just enough time to dip our toes in the water of real fun. Naturally, I’m also spending the night, which keeps our plan safely under the Brooke radar. Woo hoo! I’m so amped in the car, I change my clothes a thousand times in search of fashion greatness. With the pickin’s slim, I settle into my old standby, a micro minidress made from a vintage T-shirt and held together with nothing but a million strategically placed safety pins. I wear it layered over tights to undercut the would-be slut factor. Normally I love wearing this dress, but tonight I’m just not feeling it.
