I didn't go last night because my Friday-night-throat-tickle (which I didn't mention when I posted, because I was hoping that if I ignored it, it would go away) turned into a full-blown-Saturday-morning-cold, so after cleaning the house I took a hot bath and then laid on the couch, reading Sheer Abandon by Penny Vincenzi (loving!) and drinking hot tea and blowing my nose and aching.
No prom. No Lip Gloss and Libations (though I did get to see Good Neighbor Anne in her finery). Boo-hoo.
In high school I was the nerdy drama girl, the academic over-achiever, the class clown — all of which were good and fun things to be but none of which made me especially desirable as a hot date. I was very social with my girlfriends and boys-as-friends, but of course I longed for a boy to like me. And my senior year, I thought I had a good shot with the boy who was also one of my best friends, a nice Mormon boy who was in plays with me. He invited me on a day trip to Marriott's Great America with two other male friends of ours, I would be the only girl, I was over the moon! This was it, the pre-prom-invitation overture I'd been hoping for, hurray! hurray!
Except and except. On Marriott Eve, the boys went somewhere to play Bingo, hooked up with a popular girl they knew slightly, and invited her to come with us. During that long, bitter Saturday, I watched Mormon Boy and Popular Girl fall in love. It was 24 hours of utter wretchedness, though I kept a smile plastered on my face, a happy sparkle drilled into my determinedly tearless eyes. I smiled, I sparkled, I held it together for 24 hours. And then came home and died.
So — no prom invite. Did you see that coming? And I'd told all my other male friends that I'd been hoping Mormon Boy would ask me, so none of them did, and my brother offered to take me but I just couldn't bear the idea. Instead, my best friend and I went to the movies and saw The Jerk and Animal House (a double feature! you can tell how long ago this was) and then went to Swenson's Ice Cream Parlor to drown our sorrows — which was kind of fun, all the other senior girls without prom dates were there too, and we all waved and smiled at each other, like the good-sport-old-buddies that we were — and, our spirits restored, we then made our fatal error: We decided to drive by the prom on our way home.
And there they were, all these lovely girls with their Farrah hair and slinky gowns, taking in the night air with their ruffled pastel dates; it all looked so pretty and fun, and we were so very far outside of it.
We went home and cried.
So, so sad.
I later learned that Mormon Boy and Popular Girl wore burgundy.
He and I would have worn pale blue.
So, so sad.
But, as we all know, it gets better.
- Two months later (and again at Swenson's Ice Cream Parlor), I met the boy who became my first boyfriend.
- I saw Mormon Boy when I was home visiting my parents for Christmas; I'd met Husband but we weren't engaged yet. Mormon Boy pretty much confessed that he was an idiot and gave me a nice goodnight kiss. (I am SO better off! Nonetheless, revenge is sweeeeet.)
- In college I was still the class clown, but a sexy class clown.
- Animal House is one of my favorite movies.
Husband has a headache, I'm blowing my nose, no church for us this morning. Back to my book, I think.
Honk, sniffle, blow.
Lady C OUT!
p.s. Mrs. Cynicletary, I had no idea that I was pre-sick when we lunched on Friday! I so hope that I didn't infect you with anything.
p.p.s. Downton tonight!! And also, I think, the Golden Globes, which I usually eschew because they are so meaningless, but I'm kinda psyched to see Amy and Tina host so I may tune in for a bit.
Or, stoned on Mucinex and Earl Grey, I may pass out around 9:30. Who knows.
I love a mystery!
p.p.p.s. While writing up my prom history, I had the strongest sense of deja vu. Have I blogged this whole story before???? Crazytown.