two crappy things that go good together.
I've never been into girlie things like the prom. I did, however, attend my own. My date was not my first choice, but my dress was. My hair was done by my brother's gifted boyfriend, the hairdresser/drag queen. Not being the highlight of my life, I only have sketchy details in my mind of the entire night.
I remember the jocks dancing around in a big circle making asses out of themselves. I remember commenting to a friend, "They think this night was made for them." Even their jockette dates were left out in the cold. Strange.
I vaguely remember the prom queen. In fact, my husband and I actually don't agree on who it was, but I was there so my guess counts the most. I clearly remember thinking the prom queen and those in the court were hopeless, mindless girls with the worst gowns. At thirty-seven, now I believe they are the ones living in the suburbs and turning out to be even more hopeless women. Those ever-chipper stay-at-home-moms who believe they could have been famous -- an actress, a supermodel ... anything except a stay at home mom, which is what they are now, but they won't believe it. Their husbands are ex-jock gods who they still think are dreamy.
Don't get me started on the jocks. There was a reason I turned them down time and time again, but it wasn't until after graduation that I knew I was right. Glory days have a whole new meaning to these guys and now I find it rather sad, but thankfully ... I'm not married to it.
I do remember the feeling of complete ego. Walking in, believing my gown to be the most beautiful, believing myself to be the same, and kind of laughing on the inside about my own narcissism. I also remember the uncomfortable feeling of having classmates I didn't know from every clique approaching me when I walked in the door to tell me how good I looked. I made a concerted effort to be kind in return, instead of my usual roll of the eyes.
My date drank. I did not. Instead and for some odd reason, we drove those that were drunk home safely. He in their car and me following behind in another ... and without my license. (it wasn't until years later when I found out he was an 'in the closet homosexual' who was actually trying to grope at the male drunkards on the drive, but then it all made sense -- he was too good looking and too well-dressed)
I am not someone who looks back at high school and thinks, "Gosh, wasn't that the best time ever?" I like forward progression. I like my life as it is and not as it was, but I'll be hanged if Sunshine
didn't e-mail me asking me to join in her prom celebrations ... then asking everyone she asked to spread the word. If you want to live in the past, come join us. If you'd rather not, that's very cool with me as well.
I liked looking like Cinderella for a night, but I must say, I'm glad it went by as quickly as high school itself. Still, out of much love for Sunshine, I will stagger out on the dance floor in front of that sucky band once again. =)
Labels: drag queens, in the closet queens, prom queens, the prom