Sunday, April 14, 2013

PROM!

Many people are aware that I went to prom this weekend. Thankfully, it was nothing like a Stephen King novel.

(I WILL MILK THE CARRIE REFERENCES FOR ALL THEY'RE WORTH AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME.)

Let me be clear: This was my first school dance since the eighth grade spring formal, when I wore sneakers and a hoodie with my dress, only danced to the Cha Cha Slide, and then bought a cookie and sat on the bleachers, and somehow managed to make the cookie last for TWO HOURS. That is how awkward I was in middle school.

For prom, however, it was my intention to go all out, because I really don't have any intentions of going next year, unless a boy magically appears and wants to go with me. And even then, maybe not, because this year was exhausting. Literally. Do not role your eyes. This stuff takes work.

So, I got all my schoolwork done in the morning on Friday, and then spent the afternoon getting ready. Honestly, I probably could have used the entire day, I just chose not to. Guys are lucky. You shower, you shave, you put on your tux, and possibly spray on some Ax or whatever, and then BAM. You're done. 

(Speaking of Ax, I'm allergic to it, and I personally feel that there should be a serving size on the bottle so that you don't use the whole thing and then literally suffocate those around you with the smell. Even if you haven't showered, I don't think an entire bottle is required to mask the B.O. Anyway...)

Girls have more to do. I had to shower, and then repaint my nails so that they would match my dress, and there is always make-up (it usually takes me, like, ten minutes to do eyeliner because I always smear it or poke myself in the eye, which causes my eyes to water and smear my neatly applied eyeliner, etc.). Hair, though, that is always the most complicated issue for me.

I "borrowed" my sister's curling wand and watched five different tutorials that were supposed to explain how to use it. And then I just... tried.

It was something of a disaster. I burned myself multiple times.

I pondered shaving my head and washing my hands of the situation.

After five more video tutorials, plus and e-How article that had, like, twenty steps, I figured it out. And even when I did, it still took me an hour and a half to curl my hair. And my mom still had to help me with the back.

So, after six hours of hard labor, when it was finally time to leave, we went to Johnny Carino's with some friends for dinner. I will add that my friends and I sang the chorus of "Do You Hear the People Sing?" during a lull in restaurant conversation, and got a smattering of confused applause. I was all for jumping on the table and bursting into the solo, but my friends said no.

Keep in mind, the prom I went to was for homeschoolers. So, instead of arriving in a rented limo, we all piled into a fifteen passenger van. And when we arrived, we noticed that everyone else had used similar forms of transportation. Because that's just a homeschool thing.

So we went inside, and the chaperons told us where to get our picture taken, and then we started dancing.

It was extremely awkward.

Painfully awkward.

My dress had pockets, and so I made good use of them for twenty minutes.

I was actually starting to wish someone would get pig blood dumped on them, when I discovered a way to survive. All I had to do was pretend this was Pride and Prejudice. So, I basically spent the whole night pretending I was Lizzie Bennet and my friends were various Bennets and Charlotte Lucas, and we were all at some dance and any minute now a Darcy was going to appear and say that I was "barely tolerable." And it was all good.

Also, they played some Mumford & Sons, and I kind of squee'd 

I will also admit to shamelessly whipping my hair back and forth and singing very, very loudly to "What Makes You Beautiful." Because really, what else can you do to that song? I don't want to like it, but it makes me smile. Like, I'm trying not to smile, but I'm still smiling because stupid song why why are you making me feel these feels?!

So yeah.

Once I was pretending to be Lizzie, things went smoothly. I even did the conga line barefoot!

Which was a terrible idea. Do not join a conga line without wearing shoes, preferably sturdy, closed-toe-closed-heel, easy-to-run-in shoes. Because if you don't, it's very likely that the really nice-smelling guy in front of you will stomp on you foot and kill your big toe, and you will realize how smart you were to bring band-aids. Also, once you have applied your band-aids, do not get back in the conga line. Because you will sprain your ankle, and it will suck.

I did take a thirty minute break in a dark corner, because I was really tired and there were lots of people I just had to breathe for a second. I just sat there playing Temple Run, and when I regained feeling in my legs, I went back to the dance.Yes, even with a sprained ankle and a busted toe. Also, at the end, I found the chocolate fountain, and I was able to nip a macaroon before we left.

Also, I should mention the slow dances. They were the saddest things I've ever seen. Basically, homeschooled guys aren't all the smart, because they don't realize that the best place to get a girl friend is at prom during a slow dance. Every guy there was somebody's boyfriend, and so during the slow dances, all the couples would rush to the dance floor and get their sway on, and all the single girls were forced to retreat to the chairs and take their punch. The single girls corner was pretty full too, and while I was sitting amongst them, I was having a pretty hard time deciding whether I should laugh or cry, because we were the most pathetic little group of people I've ever seen.

Maybe we could start a club.

The She-Girls-Man-Haters Club.

We could have t-shirts.

Anyway, after three days, I'm still mildly sore from all the awkward dancing. Was it worth it? I don't know. I mean, even after going, I'm still having trouble grasping the point of prom. Like, it's supposed to be this rite of passage, this thing that everybody has to do before they graduate, and you're supposed to feel young and invincible, but when I'm on a dance floor, I don't feel young and invincible. I feel stupid and awkward, and nothing like Cinderella, whom I never particularly cared for anyway. I mean, it was cool being with my friends and stuff, but I get more out of just hanging out with them in my pajamas than I get out of swaying to music in a pretty dress with them like I know what I'm doing. 

I dunno. Maybe I'm just weird. 

But I doubt there will be more prom in my future, to be honest.

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