Because I have no pride, I give you Prom

Mamma has invited us all to the prom. BooYah. I was so excited. Then I started looking back at all of my pictures and couldn't remember which dance was which. There were too many different dances due to having a boyfriend at a different school and then by being all of my guy friends' back up date. Lucky me. So I'm going to give a collage of dance-goodness. A montage of my favorite dance pictures . . .

This is my main guy in high school. Robert. We started dating when I was in 9th grade and he was in 10th. When we started dating, he had these big glasses and was a little dorky to be honest. Since I was a lot dorky, we fit well. Then, over the next year, he simply blossomed. I found myself dating a really good looking, funny guy, with a great sense of humor. I was a lucky ducky. We always had the obligatory pinning of the boutonniere picture.

As far as I can remember, this photo is actually prom. At his high school though, not mine. We went to separate high schools - in my hometown there were dozens of private schools that cropped up in the 1970's. Can anyone tell me what was going on in the 1970's that would make private schools appear like clover in Mississippi?

Anyway, this year, he and all his friends wore top hats, gloves, and carried canes with their tuxes. They also did the alligator on the dance floor. It was a really fun group.

I so don't know what was going on with that dress though. It was definitely the early signs of body image issues I think. I was 5'8" and 125 pounds soaking wet. This was not a dress I needed to be wearing.

This is Chris. I stupidly went to a dance (maybe prom?) with him just for kicks. Robert went with some other girl that year because we were fighting. We were stupid that way. Or just teenagers, I'll never know.

My mom made this skirt. I loved that skirt so much. I also love those legs. From the knee down, I still have those. I'm working on them from the knees up. Sad. Anyway, then Momma bought me the velvet jacket to go with it. Which makes me think that this might have been a homecoming instead of a prom because I wouldn't be wearing velvet in the spring. Oh well. The other thing about this date was that Chris was a trumpet player. Trumpet players don't make great kissers in my estimation. He was just a little over zealous and tended to double tongue. This date ended with my mother knocking on the steamed up windows of his car in her bathrobe. After flicking the porch lights on and off a dozen times. *Ahem*

This be Chuck. I adore Chuck. He be from the country. Every story Chuck told started with, "We were drinking one night . . ." then moved onto, ". . .and we were in the back of the truck. . ." and ended with ". . . and that's when the cops showed up."

He was a drummer. Rhythmic kissing. If a slow enough song was playing, it was okay. Otherwise, paradiddles with a tongue started occurring in time to the music. He was really sweet. I think this was his prom though. If I remember correctly, he went with me to my prom too, but I can't find a picture of it.


Robert had left for college back in the fall of this school year, joined a fraternity, and dumped me over the phone. I can't say that I blame him. But I did miss him. Desperately. So I did stupid things. Going out with Chuck was not one of the stupid things. Chuck was a good guy.


This was one of the stupid things. This is Eric. This is by far my favorite dress ( cheapest too!). This was either homecoming or prom of my senior year. I think homecoming. I just knew I wouldn't have a date, having been dumped by Robert a few weeks before, and then Eric called me up and asked me to the homecoming dance. It went through my head that I didn't really know him and he didn't seem like my type, but I didn't have a real reason to say "no," so I said "yes." Then he said,

"Oh good. Because I've asked Jennifer, Nicole, Betsy, Paige, Lisa, that other Jennifer, and Zeita, and they all said 'No."

Great. I told him that if I had a shred of dignity I would now add myself to the list of "no's," but that I needed a date and he would do. Then I asked him how tall he was so that I could buy appropriate shoes. I figured after the list of his rejects before me, I could be as bitchy as I liked.

Which probably points to why I was last on the list anyway. Bitchiness. Self-preserving bitchiness. I went to an incredibly cruel high school. The kind where the 9th graders had nicer cars than any of the teachers. The kind where back to school shopping meant going to New York for the weekend. The kind where I built an incredibly thick wall just so the girls couldn't hurt me day after day. Getting a date with Eric, who went to the same high school as me, was considered an accomplishment in my book. *shakes head in disbelief*

Eric was a French horn player. I didn't kiss him, so I have no report. In fact, I'm not even sure I left the dance with him. We will have to ask Shelster about that one. We doubled that night. I think she taught me to drink gin and tonics that night too. I do remember flirting with the guitar player of the band a lot . . .

Anyway, my final picture is of a double date. Whymommy and I went to the dance together. Robert and Will took us to some dance at their high school which might have been a prom, I don't know. She and I were still upstairs getting ready when they arrived.

We were curling our hair.

Pumping on the hairspray.

Pretending that either one of us knew how to giggle. Which, of course, we didn't.

When we came downstairs, we found this:











Whymommy, I know you are too busy to go to the Blog Prom this year, but I thought you might like to see this. This is the same night that my older brother attempted to interrogate our dates and threaten them with bodily harm if they tried anything with his little sister and his little sister's best friend.

Ha. We so let them try something. Or at least I did . . .

Yummy.