If I wanted to, I could make this whole blog into one big, annoying string of posts about how much I love my husband. But I don't.
You're welcome.
Ten years ago I went to Jr. Prom. It was...fine. I honestly have no strong feelings about it either way, and I consider that sort of a blessing. Prom didn't really have the chance to ruin my life forever, because I never expected it to be life-changing, or even vaguely life-affecting. I just expected it to be, and then I would wake up the next day and wash my hair. Which is pretty much how it went, so bravo to Prom.
It seems a bit strange, then, that I still own my prom dress. I never really loved it to begin with, actually. I remember being a little annoyed to be prom-dress-shopping when we bought it because that was the day I took first place at regionals for impromptu speaking and I really just wanted to focus on that for the rest of the day. Who gave a flying fig about some dance when I had just wiped the floor with some kids from Juab? I mean, honestly, I was on fire that day. I felt very good about myself right about then and spending the next few hours trying on dresses seemed like a step in the wrong direction, you know?
I also remember that the dress we bought wasn't my first choice. My first choice was light green, with a cream lace overlay and empire waist. It was very Jane Austen, and I loved it. That dress was at least a size too big for me, though, and they didn't have it in any other sizes. After that I pretty much stopped caring which dress we bought. My mother and sister picked out the dress I came home with. And in retrospect, I think they did a pretty good job. At the time, I could not have cared less. I was probably still reliving the recent debate win or planning my next one. Or reading some dumb novel. My nerd quotient was running at an all-time high in those days.
Anywho, when Mr. Awesome and I made our pilgrimage back to my hometown (Actually, is it really my hometown now? My home is out here now. Is that how you use that expression?) I happened to find my prom dress hanging in my mother's closet, looking very pleased with itself for having survived so long without getting tossed out. So obviously I tried it on, because that is simply what one does in that situation. And wouldn't you know, that thing still fit like a dream. And then there was Mr. Awesome, grinning at me, and saying "You know, you should wear that out dancing sometime." And I was like
DONE!
So that's how I came to be wearing my prom dress last Saturday, ten years after my Jr. Prom, at the Glen Echo Gala Dance. We jitter-bugged, we waltzed, we ate Georgetown Cupcakes, and we held hands on the carousel as our matching ostriches rose and fell while the old-fashioned organ played on. Would you forgive me if I said this was much more romantic than the last time I wore this dress?
You're welcome.
Ten years ago I went to Jr. Prom. It was...fine. I honestly have no strong feelings about it either way, and I consider that sort of a blessing. Prom didn't really have the chance to ruin my life forever, because I never expected it to be life-changing, or even vaguely life-affecting. I just expected it to be, and then I would wake up the next day and wash my hair. Which is pretty much how it went, so bravo to Prom.
It seems a bit strange, then, that I still own my prom dress. I never really loved it to begin with, actually. I remember being a little annoyed to be prom-dress-shopping when we bought it because that was the day I took first place at regionals for impromptu speaking and I really just wanted to focus on that for the rest of the day. Who gave a flying fig about some dance when I had just wiped the floor with some kids from Juab? I mean, honestly, I was on fire that day. I felt very good about myself right about then and spending the next few hours trying on dresses seemed like a step in the wrong direction, you know?
I also remember that the dress we bought wasn't my first choice. My first choice was light green, with a cream lace overlay and empire waist. It was very Jane Austen, and I loved it. That dress was at least a size too big for me, though, and they didn't have it in any other sizes. After that I pretty much stopped caring which dress we bought. My mother and sister picked out the dress I came home with. And in retrospect, I think they did a pretty good job. At the time, I could not have cared less. I was probably still reliving the recent debate win or planning my next one. Or reading some dumb novel. My nerd quotient was running at an all-time high in those days.
Anywho, when Mr. Awesome and I made our pilgrimage back to my hometown (Actually, is it really my hometown now? My home is out here now. Is that how you use that expression?) I happened to find my prom dress hanging in my mother's closet, looking very pleased with itself for having survived so long without getting tossed out. So obviously I tried it on, because that is simply what one does in that situation. And wouldn't you know, that thing still fit like a dream. And then there was Mr. Awesome, grinning at me, and saying "You know, you should wear that out dancing sometime." And I was like
DONE!
So that's how I came to be wearing my prom dress last Saturday, ten years after my Jr. Prom, at the Glen Echo Gala Dance. We jitter-bugged, we waltzed, we ate Georgetown Cupcakes, and we held hands on the carousel as our matching ostriches rose and fell while the old-fashioned organ played on. Would you forgive me if I said this was much more romantic than the last time I wore this dress?
This time around I even managed to do my own hair. Oh, and I added those little cap-sleeves that morning (they look a little wonky here, but I fixed them before we went out, promise). Can you believe I actually went to prom in a sleeveless dress? Apparently I was not only a nerd but a skanky one at that.
1 comment:
Hurray for opportunities to go out! I didn't even get a picture of our ortho prom. How dissappointing. I wore a gorgeous dress but it was pretty much a bad date. Oh well! Yay for you! What a handsome couple you make!
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