This Is Basically Steel Magnolias But Lacking All The Fun Parts

04/16/2012 · 69 comments

in How Did My Life Come To This, My Phone Makes Me Hulk-Angry, What Is Wrong With You?

For many girls, senior prom is a time of magic and love, memories and fun!
My senior prom was a hell-forged waking nightmare.

It began when I suddenly passed out cold while getting my makeup done. Sliding out of a salon chair like a crash test dummy in a no seat-belt test while the eyeliner drags up through your hairline is usually an indicator of danger.

The poor girls at the counter drug my body back up to the chair, and offered me orange juice like I was motherfucking Shelby in Steel Magnolias (and demanded to know if I was driving nails up my arm). I drank a little, remembered violently that I really hated orange juice, and when I opened my mouth to tell her, my throat decided it might rather just throw it all up instead.

That is the moment in which I realized I had severe food poisoning.
That is also the moment in which I decided, come hell or high water, I was going to Prom.

They were very sweet at the makeup counter, and after cleaning me and the floor, they straightened my jacked eyeliner and wished me the best of luck. The artist who narrowly dodged my projectile hatred handed me a lipstick on my way out and said, “I think you’ll need to reapply a few times before the day is done.”

I had an hour to kill before my hair appointment, so I went to my car, lay my head out the window, and intermittently cried and threw up.

After the 5th time I threw up, my hair stylist just insisted on doing my hair in a bathroom stall so that at least I didn’t have to keep running back and forth. I know now from the photos that she probably vindictively chose the curly-mohawk style accented with rhinestones and purple-ass glitter. Not what I asked for, but definitely what I deserved.

The next 4 hours are a total haze.

I know that for at least 2 hours, I wandered through the Hobby Lobby next door. I have flashbacks of leaning against a stall wall, crying after throwing up for the 9th time, and I know that I was escorted out of Hobby Lobby when 2 elderly and smocked bouncers drug me out of the scrapbooking aisle after ripping 12 packs of stickers out of my hands. I had, apparently, fallen asleep in the aisle like that. Hobby Lobby is not illness-induced-delusion friendly.

As I sat sprawled out like a toddler, I had a quick pep talk with myself on the sidewalk in front of Hobby Lobby. If I was going to go to Prom, I was well enough to drive myself home.

My mom immediately thought I was drunk, and then in remembering that I was a loser in high school realized that wasn’t possible, and rightly surmised that I was very ill. She handed me some Pepto-Bismol and shoved me into my dress.

My mom was a big believer in the sickness strategy, “just get up and brush your teeth and you’ll feel better.” I’m sure even she knew it was against better judgment to let me go to Prom like that, but my mom is not the kind of lady to back down on a lesson she’s instilled in you. In the 15-minute window she had until my date arrived, she had me in a dress, hair fixed after the Hobby Lobby aggression, jewelry on, and opera-length gloves to polish it all off. She packed me a flask of Pepto in my purse, and made me brush my teeth. No one will ever bother to ask me what’s in the flask.

I have photo proof that I was not all-there during family photo time at my house and at his house, and I don’t remember any of dinner. I was later told it was a buffet, and that I got 2 plates full of food and ate none of it. I just stared blankly at it like a model in a Luby’s cafeteria.

The only part of the actual dance, and truly the rest of the night, that I recall was when we lined up for Prom royalty crowning. I was a candidate, and my poor King-Candidate escort was straight-up drunk-dragging me up to the front, insisting I stop grabbing my rose if it’s stabbing me, and trying to talk me out of puking in front of my entire school. It’s the closest thing to a war flashback that I can imagine, being stuck in front of so many flashing cameras when I’m still not sure where I was or if I was even alive. I saw Jesus telling me I looked pretty in my dress.

Looking back, it might have been my science teacher, which is still very weird.

I was so relieved when neither of us won, because that meant I could finally be sick. He drug me to the bathroom, threw me in a stall, and–like a gentleman–didn’t let anyone else come in until I was done. Later, I’ll find out that so many people thought I was distraught over losing the title, or possibly pregnant. Hilariously, our actual prom queen was pregnant.

I spent the rest of the night taking deep drinks out of my Pepto-flask and attempting to dance what was described by my dear friend Louie as, “like an iguana attempting to aggressively mate with a flamingo.” My mom assures me I didn’t wake up for a solid 24 hours when I was finally dropped back off at my home.

Some people make bad life decisions at Senior Prom.
Some people relive the memories their entire lives.
I’m thrilled I survived.

The face of victory.

I LOVE Prom stories. What’s yours?

Favorite Comment From The Last Post:
From Jen: “I want to hold hands with her and cavort in a meadow singing “Salt-n-Pepa” tunes whilst eating Little Debbie snack cakes. ‘Cuz I think she’d be into that shit.”
Mayor Gia April 16, 2012 at 6:28 am

Hahahahah yikes! THANK YOU for including a picture. I was going to beg for one in the comments if you hadn’t.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:14 am

I had to prove it really happened.

Rachel April 16, 2012 at 7:46 am

my best friend and i were each other’s dates to each other’s proms. at hers i managed to get one of her best friends in extreme trouble with his girlfriend. i also stepped on her dress with my 4 inch spike heels and ripped it. at mine she was in a wheelchair because she had surgery on her acl two days prior. made moving around tricky.

Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:14 am

Wheelchair prom sounds like the best prom ever!

Jen April 16, 2012 at 8:00 am

My Junior Prom date came out of the closet senior year. My Senior Prom date? Well, I was actually a bridesmaid at his wedding. . .to his lovely husband. The take-away from all of this, kids? I turn misters into sisters. You’re welcome, Rick Santorum.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:15 am

You have the knack, my friend.

Kaye April 16, 2012 at 8:31 am

This. Was. Spectacular. My junior prom I went by myself. Yay winner! My senior prom I went with a guy I was friends with from church. He’s black and I am very pale. Lesson learned: You look extra pale when you’re having your picture taken next to a black guy. :) My parents weren’t in town during my senior prom, my Sister was graduating college at the same time so they chose to go to that instead. I don’t blame them. I had a good time. I also moved my senior year to north Houston, so I just wore the same dress. It was new to everyone else!

Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:16 am

Double-dressing for the win!

RADventures April 16, 2012 at 8:34 am

During high school, I had the misfortune of attending not one, not two, but five separate proms (two in my junior year, two in my senior year, and one the year after I graduated). The inauspicious highlights of each:
Prom #1: We didn’t have an environment that was “going stag friendly.” This is unfortunate, since the girl I went with was the girl with whom I had broken up a week or so before the prom. We both just had to be at the social event of the century, so we stayed the course. Unintentionally (or maybe slightly intentionally), I picked her up in my sweet Toyota Corolla, sporting bright pink high-top Chucks to match her bright pink dress. Neither my date nor her mom were impressed. In their defense, I didn’t realize I looked like such a dildo.
Prom #2: I went with a senior who needed a date. She was a nice girl. She and I and three other couples stayed overnight at a local hotel. Of course, when we opened the curtain to the window, we saw that the window was actually a brick wall. Classy.
Prom #3: Once again, I took an ex-girlfriend. The setting was benign enough, but her dress wasn’t. Normally I’m really not in a position of moral authority to judge fashion (see my previous reference to bright pink Chucks) but were dress could be classified only as “Flower Medley.” It looked as if she had caught on fire, and while stop, dropping and rolling she had steamrolled right over a garden. Thankfully, I stashed some booze, so the night wasn’t a total loss.
Prom #4: The only prom I remember having fun at. The pink Chucks had been replaced by black Chucks, so I considered myself a fashion icon. This was rivaled only by my good friend, who wore canvas sneakers that had the Budweiser logo all over them. Rereading this, I guess I’m not surprised that it took me awhile to lose my virginity.
Prom #5: This one, I’m going to have to give a grade of “incomplete.” You see, I had started college at this point, and had met a dude who had killer weed. I’m pretty sure the prom was fun, and I didn’t get arrested, but aside from that…like I said, I had some killer weed. Details are fuzzy.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:16 am

I love the virginity realization midway through this post. Classic, Rad, classic.

Jayne April 16, 2012 at 9:08 am

PTSD. It’s not just for military combat.
You deserve a fucking medal for being so straight up badass !
You are my hero.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:17 am

Hah! I never thought I’d be considered a badass for that shit.

Johi April 16, 2012 at 9:17 am

It is so hard to remember through the fog of Aqua Net….. I’m having flashbacks of Guns-n-Roses being played in our high school cafeteria; because that’s where you go for prom when your high school sits in the middle of a cornfield and you are 40 miles from any towns with stoplights.
No, I’m not Amish. Thanks for wondering.
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Jen April 16, 2012 at 3:24 pm

Please tell me your prom’s theme was also Alphaville’s “Forever Young”.
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Johi April 16, 2012 at 6:00 pm

Sadly, the theme was “There will never be another tonight”. Which is true, albeit glaringly obvious.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:17 am

Oh God.

What high school did you go to?! DID WE ATTEND THE SAME SCHOOL!?!

CrazyTragicAlmostMagic April 16, 2012 at 9:32 am

Sorry you had such a bad prom experience but this is hysterical. I can’t really complain about mine. What bothers me the most is the other couple my boyfriend and I went with. They wanted to leave to go to the cottage… you know… I wanted to stay.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:22 am

I’m just glad I can share it and laugh now!

L-Kat April 16, 2012 at 9:34 am

I am the only girl from my high school to have ever gone to Prom with “a date wearing a skirt shorter than her dress.” I went with the foreign exchange student one year, and he was was from Scotland. He dressed up in his traditional kilt. It was pretty cool and that kilt landed me on the front page of our local newspaper.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:24 am

I had a redneck that wore a kilt at ours.

I will bet all of my money yours was much more fun.

Eleanor April 16, 2012 at 9:38 am

That sounds like a nightmare. I didn’t go to my senior prom, because at the time I was dating someone who was 26 and he didn’t dance. I went to my Junior prom, though. It was on a beautiful boat on Lake Coeur D’Alene. We arrived at the boat, immediately assaulted by seniors who had misbehaved at the senior retreat so were barred from the prom. Like we could change anyone’s mind about anything. Once we got on the boat, the engines had problems to it took a while to get going, and they didn’t want to start anything until we were out on the lake. Then we got out and started having fun, and that is when one of my friends noticed that the zipper on my dress had come undone and wouldn’t zip back up. All my friends dutifully circled around me and took me to the bathroom, where we figured out it hadn’t come undone, the teeth on the vintage second hand dress I was wearing had worn out and lost their grip. It fit fine, it was just old. I spent the whole thing in the bathroom. Now that I think back on it, several people had taken off their jackets and left them on chairs. Why didn’t anyone offer one so I could come out of hiding?

That was nothing compared to my sophomore year Valentine’s Day dance. It was to me by first date (my mom didn’t let me date until I was 16). The day before the dance I was herded to the allergist to find out why I couldn’t ever breath and why I constantly had to wipe my nose. They decided in order to determine that they had to do a skin test. If you are not familiar with this, it is when they take 200 syringes and inject known allergens into your skin and see what reacts. As I have sensitive skin, it left what looked like multiple track marks all over my back. And as they didn’t have room on my back, they used both of my forearms as well. My dress for the dance was backless and sleeveless. So not only was I itchy and uncomfortable, I looked like the worst junkie ever. I wasn’t about to miss my first date though. My mom was fickle….if I flaked out I may not get another chance until I was 18. Fortunately my sister was in an uncharacteristically generous mood and let me borrow her cream satin formal jacket. I have pictures of me where I look alternately pleased and high.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:25 am

Your story sounds so much more like Steel Magnolias than mine. You win.

Andi Davies April 16, 2012 at 10:38 am

Oh god, my Senior Prom was the same night as our Athletic Awards Banquet for the entire District. I was so nervous about having to eat on a dais — fuck that, about BEING on a dais at all — that I barely ate all day, then ate the weird food at the banquet and promptly got diarrhea. We were at a hotel, and our Prom was a few blocks away at a different hotel. My boyfriend offered to take me home, but I was like, “FUCK THAT.” My mom found some Pepto at the hotel gift shop (that stuff is magical, y’all) and I chugged it and went to prom. For the last, lame hour or so — all the cool kids had already left to get drunk. I was ok after the Pepto and have a vague recollection of dancing to “Mentirosa” unless I hallucinated that, too. Then I went home with my boyfriend and we messed around on my family couch, and I spent the whole time worried that I stunk of poo.

Fond memories. Let us never think about them again.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:26 am

Pepto never knew they were the savior of so many proms. They should start a new campaign.

Jillian @ Brilliant Title April 16, 2012 at 11:40 am

I am one of the few people I have ever met who fully enjoyed prom. I had a date from another school who was a very dear friend and dating someone else, so he was just along to hang out, chat, and make sure I had fun. We had a wonderful dinner, my dress looked phenomenal, and at the end of the night we slept at a friends house after a bonfire, a marathon game of catch phrase, and a showing of Aladdin.

Of course, a friend in our group had been informed two days earlier that her boyfriend had been cheating on her with a girl in the choir. The informant just happen to forget the fact that she, too, had fooled around with the now ex-boyfriend. Prom is just so thrilling, these things slip your mind…
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:27 am

I apparently had a lot of fun after Prom. I have photos of myself having fun, but I do not remember SHIT.

Janene April 16, 2012 at 11:43 am

Never went to prom, junior or senior. I got called to babysit at the resort where prom was being held, though, and oh, what a joy to be walking in my sweatshirt and jeans past the ballroom where everyone else from my graduating class was enjoying prom. Nothing says “awesome prom night” than being in the same location as your younger sister while she has a date and you don’t.

Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:27 am

I want to give you hugs and throw you a new prom.

Dana the Biped April 16, 2012 at 12:28 pm

I went to a tiny-ass school where everybody went to prom because otherwise it wasn’t worth renting the space (private schools are too fancy for gym-proms). My freshman year, I went with a totally hot senior guy, who, months later, I realized had asked me because he actually liked me, and not because I had a special talent for breaking bowling alleys. (I was kind of socially retarded freshman year.) And I wore an ugly dress.

Sophomore year I went stag and remember virtually nothing other than the set-up looked like a really bad shot-gun wedding–lots and lots and LOTS of crummy fake flowers. I wore an ugly dress.

Junior year I went with my first serious boyfriend, and I spent the entire night begging him to dance with me. He was too busy ignoring me to do so. (I was still socially retarded and thus didn’t realize this meant he was an asshole.) I wore the only decent dress of my entire high school career.

Senior year prom was just after my very nasty, bitter, public breakup with said boyfriend. I blackmailed/beat my best friend Kolin into going with me. I wore an ugly dress.

But that year, we had a fucking blast.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:30 am

I made the mistake of breaking up with my boyfriend junior year and still going to prom with him a week later. It was a fucking disaster, and ended with him yelling at me, “LOVE IS A LIE.”

Cheers!

Carrie - Cannibalistic Nerd April 16, 2012 at 12:31 pm

I was getting worried as I read the post, scrolling, scrolling, and not seeing a picture. Then it paid off at the end. It was at once the perfect punchline and proof it actually happened, which made my heart hurt for you.

My senior prom was less eventful. I had broken up with my lame boyfriend a couple weeks before, so my future husband and best friend at the time was nice enough to come with me even though he wasn’t in high school and didn’t have to do that shit anymore. I don’t remember much of it, not because of drunken blackouts, but because prom was about as interesting to me as church, so no memories really stuck.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:31 am

I had to wait to the end to explain why I look like such a shitshow. I mean, I take some really awful pictures, but at least this one had an explanation.

Lauren April 16, 2012 at 1:14 pm

I actually went to Prom with my husband. (I actually went to preschool with my husband but that is an entirely different story.)

But anyway, senior year he made me a bet that I would go to prom with another boy in our class (who was a total nerd and had devised a floating Monopoly board so he and his friends could sit around in a hot tub and you know…play monopoly.)

My varsity-athlete-homecoming-king husband ending up losing both that bet and his heart to me, the captain of the Science Olympiad team.

But not before I dated the Monopoly kid for a little while.
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Jen April 16, 2012 at 3:30 pm

My ex husband went to my prom even though he attended a different high school. I have a picture in my junior yearbook of me dancing and my ex is in the background. Who knew I’d wind up marrying him 10 years later. . .I should have killed him then when he was young and defenseless.
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Jackie G April 16, 2012 at 6:46 pm

I went to junior and senior prom with my husband (and also went to his junior prom when I was a sophmore) and it was pretty hilarious how over time we became more comfortable with each other and really fucking weird around each other. Our prom photos are like a flip book into insanity.

He also got shitfaced for my senior prom and danced all night, and made me do the soulja boy with him on the stage. True story (though he still denies it).

Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:32 am

This comment is so stupid adorable and lovely I want to hug all of the puppies.

Jana April 16, 2012 at 2:56 pm

Well, I can’t believe that I am actually going to write this down. So, my Prom consisted of me giving a road hummer to my boyfriend at the time while on a major freeway. As I did this thing of “love” apparently, I was the #1 guest star on many truckers CB radio’s. I did wonder at the time, while we seemed to be surrounded by tall trucks while barrelling 75 mph down the freeway. As it would turn out, my act caught the attention of several CHP’s (they overhead all of the CB traffic) and we got pulled over. So there I stood, on the side of the road, in my prom dress, getting a lecture about how would my parents feel if they had to be told that I died with a dick in my mouth.

Not my fondest memory of prom.
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Mandi E. April 17, 2012 at 6:45 pm

You are my fucking hero.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:41 am

Jana, you are the fucking BALLS.

You win.

Ally April 16, 2012 at 6:11 pm

My mom made me start dying my mousey brown hair blonde when I was 12 years old. My senior year I decided I was sick of it and just let me hair grow out. This led to me having shoulder length hair that was half blonde, half brown and not in an awesome Cruella Deville kind of way.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:43 am

These days, it’s totally the style. You’re a goddamn trendsetter.

Misty April 16, 2012 at 8:19 pm

Epic prom story, Noa. You win.

My junior prom was with a guy I was seeing who went to a neighboring school of which he was currently suspended. I was awesome at guy picking back then. We spent almost the entire prom hanging with HIS friends in a nearby Hardee’s parking lot, because it was also his school’s prom that night as well, but because he was suspended, he couldn’t go. Later we went to hang out with some friends of mine at someone’s house, where he stashed a sixer of beer in the bushes on the side of the house and proceeded to keep going out and drinking. When he was discovered doing it by the kid whose house we were at, he was asked to leave and we got in a big fight and he broke up with me . . . on prom night.

Senior prom I went with a guy I hardly knew because I had broken up with my douchey boyfriend about a week prior and scrounged to get a date at the last minute. He was a friend of a friend’s friend or something. In the limo on the way to dinner, my “friends” pulled an audible and decided instead of going to our planned restaurant for dinner, it would be super fun to go to the restaurant at which my ex was waiting tables that night, despite my pleas against it. That was awesome. I hardly remember the actual dance because I was pretty drunk at that point. We convinced the limo driver to go buy us a bunch of booze and drank a lot between dinner and dancing. Oh, and the theme of the dance? Freebird by Lennard Skinnard. No, I did not go to high school in the 70’s in case you were wondering.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 1:59 am

It was a really amazing story, and then you threw in the Freebird THEME and I’m forced to think I am never going to be cool.

Valerie April 16, 2012 at 10:05 pm

I was dating an older guy who refused to take me to prom… Yea, he was a fucking asshole. So, like a normal high school girl, I took a balloon to my prom. I wrote “My Date” on it with a sharpie. We danced the night away and sipped punch all evening. He was the most perfect gentleman I’ve ever met…
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 2:00 am

I love non-human dates. I had a friend who brought a demo skeleton. It was glorious.

Chiconky April 16, 2012 at 10:29 pm

Well that’s just plain awesome.
I didn’t go to prom because my juvenile delinquent boyfriend wasn’t allowed. I did however, force my parents to buy me a prom dress so I could take the dead beat to dinner and then a movie.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 2:00 am

You made the best of a rough situation. WELL DONE!

Dave in Sherman April 16, 2012 at 11:41 pm

Nothing personal ladies, but you folks knew a bunch of assholes.
I actually was able to take my girlfriend to my Junior Prom and we had a good time. She was from a really poor family, so my Mom made her a prom dress. It had a real simple floral pattern and I remember all of the other girls looking at her. I don’t think she noticed, she was so happy and having fun. I graduated early and was in the Army and up to my ass in a Central American swamp chasing down a mortar team who was trying to shell our airfield. I had taken a close one and was bleeding out of one ear from the concussion. I remember sitting in a wet campsite trying to write my girl a letter and remembering dancing with her the year before to Bob Seger’s “Turn the Page” at prom. At mail call, I got a letter from her telling me she had a surprise for me. Turns out she decided that after three months of waiting, she was lonely and had decided to see another guy who asked her to his prom. Sorry and all that.
I still remember that dress.
Dave
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 2:01 am

I really really wish you had a photo of that dress.

Eric April 17, 2012 at 1:11 am

My wife thought it pretty awesome you had the guts to wear flip flops.

Heh.

Guts.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 2:02 am

I tried to wear heels. The 4th time I fell my mom decided it wasn’t a good plan.

elizabeth- flourishinprogress April 17, 2012 at 11:29 am

Normally, I would be laughing my ass off because I’m a coldhearted bitch, but I just did all kinds of “awwwwww’s” and “goddamnit, you poor thing” right now because I love you and it just sucks to hell that your Special Night was all about throwing up….before the alchohol induced craziness that you so rightfully should have been able to participate in.

I went to prom with a boy who wanted to remain a virgin until he was married.

Ha.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 2:03 am

Funny, I did too my senior year. He remained a virgin.

Dani April 17, 2012 at 11:50 am

My one solid memory of prom is that my arch-enemy, the cake faced bitch who was dating my ex-boyfriend (who dumped me six months previously after busting me making out with his best friend on a double date, but still… how DARE THE BASTARD REPLACE ME??) showed up in the SAME DRESS. THE. SAME. DRESS.

In hindsight, considering that every single girl in my high school (all 2000 of us) shopped in the same Macy’s in San Francisco for our prom dresses, all hanging on the same rack in the same Gunne Sax section of the store, it isn’t all that coincidental that a couple of the dresses would appear in duplicate, but I was so livid I insisted on leaving.

Prima donna, what? Who me?
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 2:04 am

I used to think I was so clever buying my dress the year before. Nope, it just meant I looked like I was wayyyyyy the fuck behind.

Bobbie April 17, 2012 at 3:08 pm

After dinner, on our way to prom, my boyfriend and I were nearly run off the road by all the cars around us trying to avoid hitting a guy who had just jumped off an overpass onto the freeway. And had already been hit at least once. And who we later found out was a family friend of one of our friends. Nothing says teenage romance like having to call 911 for the first time and spending the rest of the night trying to scrub the image of your first glimpse of brain matter from your memory. I still gag every time I have to drive under that overpass.

Noa May 17, 2012 at 2:04 am

HOLY SHIT.

It was rough, and then that last sentence really fucking drove it home.

JESUS.

NATurally Inappropriate April 17, 2012 at 3:45 pm

I actually didn’t go to my prom– but I lived vicariously through my daughter– who had a BLAST at hers.
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 2:05 am

Then I say your prom was amazing.

KMo April 18, 2012 at 3:28 am

Awesome pic. The tension in your neck is amazing.
So glad I live in a country where Proms aren’t a huge thing. High school was angst-ridden eoungh without the added truama of getting a date for the dance.

Noa May 17, 2012 at 2:12 am

I could barely keep my head aloft. I am jealous of your non-prom-ery!

thoughtsappear April 22, 2012 at 5:48 pm

You are a trooper! I don’t have an even remotely exciting prom story. Love your dress!
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Noa May 17, 2012 at 2:14 am

Thanks! I’m glad it happened so I can share the ridiculous.

Rachel May 31, 2012 at 3:58 pm

I’m embarassingly late to the Noa party (you are fucking HILARIOUS by they way, and are the reason I did not get shit done at work today), but I wanted to share my prom story.

At my junior prom, I went with a guy I had been sort of dating, but sort of broke up with a week before prom because he was sort of dating another girl at the same time as me who also dumped his ass. He came to pick me up at my house in a fucking 2 ton pickup that he had to lift me into (which becomes a whole new level of difficult in a formal dress and heels). He also brought a friend with him that wasn’t going to the prom because he was from a different school and that was so drunk he passed out on my couch next to my grandma. The ENTIRE night my date bitched about women and not being loved and boo-fucking-hoo he had a bigger vagina than me, so I eventually told him to shut up or leave. He left. After being slapped by a friend’s stepmother for being a douchenugget. After he left, I won a 32 inch tv in a raffle drawing, danced until I couldn’t shake my ass anymore, and ended up sleeping on a patio chair in my ex-boyfriend’s great-grandma’s garage. All in all, it turned out to be a pretty awesome night, minus the soreness from sleeping on patio furniture.

My senior year, I took my current boyfriend, who is Mexican (but like the worst Mexican ever – he can’t even speak Spanish and often gets mistaken for a tall Asian) and all the parents fucking freaked out because 1. he was Mexican (they may have thought he was Asian, I’m not entirely sure), and this was a small German Catholic town where the population was 100% white (except for the adopted kid in my class who I’m pretty sure was Hispanic – he aced 4 years of Spanish- but he always put Caucasian on everything because his adopted parents are white) 2. he wasn’t from the area (he was from the big bad Dallas! the land of sin and name brand shopping!) and 3. he was older than me. Only by about 2 years, but it might as well have been 20. All of that, coupled with my racy dress (red and cleavage and glitter, oh my!) pretty much got me banned from the prom section of the yearbook, as well as banned from my friend’s houses by their parents. Best. Prom. Ever.

Noa June 5, 2012 at 12:07 am

1) Thank you!

2) I love how you just skipped over why you were in your boyfriend’s great grandma’s garage.

3) That is the way to live life.

Andrea June 6, 2012 at 11:05 pm

Let’s see… I didn’t go to senior prom. I was barely passing my senior year and was generally freaking the fuck out. But I went Junior year. My boyfriend at the time was hunting kangaroos in Australia (no, seriously! He was homeschooled, so when his dad went home to visit he came along. Apparently the cute little fuckers are pests on ranches and have a bounty.) My best friend wanted to go with her boyfriend but none of our friends were going so I took one for the team. Plus I got to wear a pretty dress and makeup and a hairdo and I felt like a REAL girl for the first time ever. And I’m pretty sure her supergeeky boyfriend felt like a baller. It was… really fucking boring, to be honest. It was at a swanky country club that hosted the PGA Tour at some point or some shit, but I wasn’t able to sneak any spiked stuff ’cause I was afraid it would kill me since my psych had been all NO DRINKING ON THIS MEDICINE. Learned later it was more of a “don’t get DRUNK-drunk” but whatever.

It got a bit tainted-by-proximity to later events, though. Soon after when the Boy returned, we ended up in a “just-the-tip” situation and I was so excited that I wasn’t the baby/comic relief of my friend group (aka ‘FIRST!’ but with people) anymore that I told them all we’d done it, and then he was peeved and never spoke with me again beyond a “Yeah… we’re done. *doorshut*” when I drove down a few days later to ask what was going on since he wouldn’t txt/IM/answer me and I was terribly confused.

I didn’t think things through as a teenager. Especially when it came to talking. It makes me wince and facepalm nowadays.

Noa June 9, 2012 at 12:09 pm

I love that you later learned the threshold of alcohol under that medication. Trial and error?

Andrea June 9, 2012 at 1:04 pm

Yep. There’s this invisible line – I’m a happy, slightly ridiculous drunk until I’m a sip over the limit. Then I’m assuming the fetal position under the table to express my melancholy. The best way is to do a few shots at the start of things and drink no more than 3 Smirnoff Ice the rest of the night. You carry a flask of vodka in your purse and when you feel the shots starting to wear off you add some to your wimpy drink to give it a bit more kick.
Andrea recently posted..Shitballs

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