Something Different and Old

Right. An update...so that is going to have to wait. I have much to tell you audience, do not fret, however you will have to continue being patient. Since I am visiting my family in Chicago, I want to spend as much time as I can with them. Blog posts do not happen without a decent amount of time and work. You will receive posts after I am back in Montreal. They help to keep my sanity amidst all the cover letters and job applications.

Before we begin with this "different" post, Happy 2016 everyone! I hope that your New Year's Eve was memorable and that you remember it on New Year's Day. Mine was both, aced it!

Moving on, the something different and old is a short blurb I decided to write on a whim. It is about prom. I was thinking about how I wished I could "re-write" some of my memories into being wholly positive. Now, that is ridiculous and flawed thinking; what happened has happened. No amount of conditional tense can change the reality of history. However, I did decide that writing about my foolish thinking might clear my head a bit. Happily, my head is much clearer. I have also decided to shared this raw blob of text with you as well audience. Enjoy a small window into my teenage years. One more thing, if you think it is biased, then you're correct. Of course it is! It's my personal writing. Only raw facts aren't biased, e.g. Don't drink mercury, you will be poisoned.

Alright, alright, I'll post it. Here we go audience.

If I Could Re-Write Prom

            As an ordinary student in the suburban area of Chicago, I went to prom my senior year of high school. My prom was not the worst; there are plenty of prom horror stories and mine was not nearly negative enough to be categorized as such. However, it was not best prom either. The nagging thorn, the primary reason that night wasn’t categorized as the best, was my choice of date. Yup, my date dented my prom night. Cliché as it sounds, it is true. The only other “thorn” so to speak of the night was my style of eyebrows. Realize that my eyebrows do act as a shaper to my face, important for pictures, but they are not as critical as your date choice. Why? Eyebrows never put you down no matter how much you pluck them; they are a very forgiving facial feature. Dates on the other hand, they can slash you verbally just for the hell of it, no plucking necessary.

            2010 was the year of my prom and was actually a positive year for me. I did not flunk any classes from “Senioritus” or make a habit of ditching school. Instead, I took advanced placement exams, sent out one college application, made it into college, and found the perfect prom dress online; all while I was making my eyebrows appear to be small smudges no longer than the width of quarter that floated helplessly above my eyes. That was the style, small and groomed with lots of room. Similarly, the style of boyfriend was a college dropout who had shared two years of high school with me. Oh yes, that was, and may still be, à la mode.

 He was a senior and I was a sophomore when we met. I never fell in love with him even though I tried to love him. He thought that he loved me but confused possessive obsession with the four letter relationship bomb. Both of us were unaware of our personal failures at grasping love, typical of teenagers. Still, we managed to have a decent relationship, especially the duration of the first year. Then, he dropped out of college.

Now, I’m all for people following their passions and their dreams; if you aren’t being challenged or something you thought you loved turns out to be something completely different, then, yes, make a change. In some cases, taking a year off from studying allows for a change in perspective and for new doors to be unlocked. This wasn’t his approach. His method was to whine about not having a job, a potential college education, or a license. He did eventually achieve those feats through the old fashioned technique of girlfriend meltdown and nagging. Those were not some of my fondest memories.

All of that mess occurred during my senior year of high school. Sure, we had fun dates and said “I love you” to one another, like a normal teenage couple. We also argued about stupid things and avoided talking about important things, like a normal teenage couple. Above all, we went to prom together, like a normal teenage couple; what a mistake that was. In fact, the idea of me wanting to go to prom at all baffled my future ex boyfriend.

If any of you know what it is like to not normally be considered a “beauty queen” or “girly-girl,” then you have some perspective on my teenage insecurity. I did not know how to use make-up properly (this was before I saw Michelle Phan tutorials); I dressed in oversized ripped jeans and black t-shirts; My hair was just there, nothing fancy but always clean. The only thing that matched the times were those squiggles I called eyebrows, god bless them.

Despite all of that nonsense, I was excited for prom. As previously mentioned, I had found my dress online. It was a Jovani dress, beautiful in its simplicity. The dress was strapless and spilled onto the floor in puddle of swirling fabric. It only had two colors, black and pink. I could have chosen red in place of the pink; however, cherry blossoms are simply meant to be a shade of fuchsia. The black shimmered and the flowers cascaded down; I was in love with a piece of fashion.

Fortunately, my mom agreed. We called the shop, in New England no less, and gave them my dress measurements. A size was picked and off it shipped, all the way to Chicago. When it arrived, I immediately wore my new prize. Boys are nice but seriously, perfectly fitted dresses are a complete improvement. I had my dress. All I needed was my date.

Ladies and gentlemen, would you have said yes to someone who asked you to prom via note and voodoo doll? I did. He was my boyfriend and I felt compelled to say yes, despite everything else in my head screaming no. Oh the red flags of hindsight, I despise you. It was original, I’ll give him that. It was creepy, I’ll give him that too.

After that prom-posal disaster, I continued to prepare with a spa treatment, hair styling, and even professional makeup application. Nails were there too, with two of my best friends of course. I had the works done and felt amazing. One of my best friend’s even had her mom take pictures of us with a green screen and smoking camera, free of charge. Seriously, everything naturally happened without snare or cancellation. Almost, there was the aforementioned thorn yet to come.

Would you have still gone to prom with your date after they told you that they were disappointed in your appearance because, “you look better natural. I don’t like all, this,” when referring to your hair, makeup, and dress? Unfortunately, I did. Yup, he really did say that to me on the way to prom. Good thing my mascara was waterproof.

You might be wondering, how was my prom at all positive? Simple, prom is for friends. Sure, we all take a date but prom is the finale for the seniors, the last dance. Spending it laughing, dancing, and smiling with friends is what makes it fun. That’s what I did the moment I stepped in the venue. Yes, I still had to dance and be around my date (he was my ride and had finally earned his license). However, I socialized and snapped pictures, in between small talk, with my plethora of friends the entire night as well.

My date knew the senior socializing was going to happen; I had explained that to him months in advance. He still pouted on the date because he felt it was “his prom” even though he had done the dance two years prior with all of his friends. I dated a short Madonna.

His grand moment of drama was when he scowled during my slow dance with my childhood best friend, Timmy. The first thing out of Timmy’s mouth when we started to dance was, “you look amazing Mare, and that dress!” He always knew, and still knows, how to make me smile. All my date could do after was explain how awkward it was for him and Timmy’s future ex. Too bad, best mates before prom dates. After all, prom is for spending the night with your friends, not stuffy dates who put you down. Before you assume a sappy ending, no, my childhood bestie and I are not dating nor are we in love. We’re best friends who fortunately shared a dance at our final dance.

So, if I were to re-write my prom experience, I would not have gone with my high school boyfriend. That decision probably would have ended my relationship right then and there. So, what? It wasn’t going anywhere; plus, it had an Alamo ending a mere four months later. Instead, I would have gone with a best friend and just had fun the entire night. He would have told me I was beautiful in all my makeup and curls. I would have mentioned how well he cleaned up in formal attire. We would have smiled while we danced with everyone with which we shared high school classes and memories. It would have been platonic and perfect.

Sadly, I can’t re-write my memories. They are what they are. The negative experiences are there as mistakes etched in permanent ink. On the flipside, everything magical and full of happiness is just as permanent. My friends made my prom night special, not my date.

I didn’t have the best prom because taking a friend instead of your boyfriend was not considered socially normal. My prom date, a teenage boyfriend, was like my in style eyebrows; short, squiggly, and in desperate need of growth and fulfillment. At least I can say, in full confidence, my eyebrows did achieve all of that and I have never been happier to see them framing my face. Who needs a dumpy prom date when you have on point eyebrows and the friends you shared prom night with all years later? If you said yes, seek help; prom is for teenagers while friends and eyebrows are for everyone, always.

                                                                        -End-

That's my little story that sorted my head out. Time for bed, I need to catch a train in the AM. Oh, if any of you are wondering if I still wear the dress, I do wear it, more than I'd like to admit on the internet. Ciao audience.