We’ve been busy the past few days preparing for the Marine Corps Ball tomorrow. When I say we’ve been busy, I mean Tim has been busy and I have been taking pictures. All I have to do is throw on some heels and not get too drunk; Tim will in fact be acting as the senior escort for the cake-cutting ceremony* (this means he will be the one shouting “Attention!” and “Present Sword!”). He has a whole script and procedure to memorize, so he has been marching around the apartment with his sword shouting out orders.
There will be many more pictures after the event tomorrow, including the obligatory cheesiness that is the “ball photo.” (“Ok, now hold her hands, and turn a little to your left, no, closer together, and now lean your heads in toward each other, pretend it’s prom, and SMILE!” Awfulness.)
*Wouldn’t the mention of a cake-cutting ceremony imply that we all get to eat cake? Not so. We get to watch the important people eat cake. Then they feed us our dinner. Oo-rah.