I have been lying in bed most of the day with my knee on ice…and watching Defiance reruns. But that’s another story.
Prom was AWESOME. You know the night’s gonna be great when you show up wearing net gloves and your friends happen to be wearing theirs…but the glove thing wasn’t even planned. Synchronicity!
We even whipped out our party guy, Resurrection Joe. He is a flask. Joe is not just any flask. He’s seen things that would make grown men scream. He’s been inside the purses of intoxicated ladies in compromised positions. We filled him up with Absolut Citron, closed his mouth tightly and dared Joe to reveal our secrets. He’s a good boy. Our secrets are safe.
We did make a scene in the tiny bathroom stall as we whipped him out. Any time a group of girls run into an empty stall, expect debauchery. Especially when they bring cups of barely sipped Sprite. Quicker than you can say, “Gag Me With A Spoon” we emptied him of all his joy juice and were back on the dance floor.
Dang! My knee still hurts. Penance for my sins, I guess. Dance all night? I did…and in Chuck Taylor’s no less. Good thinking on this girls part. I put some of those magic gel pads inside those flat, arch less contraptions and did The Prep, The LV and The Pogo. Modern technology for archaic footwear. Yay!
I opted to wear my hair in the “Wet Look” instead of a mountainous 80’s hair piece. Although a wig would’ve covered the paper clip Erin used to secure my halter top dress. Funny thing. The darned dress fit yesterday morning but when I went to put it on last night, it fought me! Thank Goodness for resourceful friends and office supplies! Hmm…maybe if I’d worn a huge Whitney Houston hair waterfall, I could’ve taken off my jacket for a minute. But if I learned anything during the 80’s, I learned that The Look is Everything. Heatstroke before fashion disgrace. I was hot, sweaty and just as happy as a pig in…mud.
It has become hard to focus. I don’t think that I’m still drunk. Definitely not feeling hungover. It’s good that I can’t recall all of the details, eh? I came home with my dignity and underwear in tact so, I wasn’t too bad. Good Times, Good Times.
Ready for Next Year!