IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN?

There is a picture of me still in a closet at my parent's house of me and my date for my junior/senior prom in 1983.  I still laugh hysterically when I run across that photo and can distinctively remember the thoughts and feelings of that evening.  It's even funnier to the average person who glances at the picture because my face gives away every thought in my head.  Really, I think it started long before prom night - starting with my mom's declaration that she would make my dress:(  Having grown up with a mother who sewed alot of our clothes when we were young I was very familiar with homemade clothes.  I hated them when I six and, at seventeen I hated them even more.  She probably knew I wasn't really into this "making of the prom dress" thing and tried to engage me in the process.  Well, I had about as much enthusiasm as you do when putting your feet in the stirrups at the gynecologist:)  To the fabric store we went to find a pattern and material.  What came over me, I to this day do not know.  It had to be just a resolve to get this dress thing over with as quickly as possible, but I picked out a pale pink material with these very tiny gray dots.  Why I say, why did I do that?  I'm not a pink lover and I hate patterns of any kind.  I'm thinking I hadn't fully arrived at feeling, knowing and embracing who I am.  It is prom protocol to let your date know what color your dress is for two reasons; 1) so they can pick out appropriate and color coordinated flowers that will be pinned on or strapped to your wrist declaring boldly "my mom ordered these" and, 2) so your date can order a tux in some fashionable style and color to compliment you while letting you retain your place of greater beauty than him.  When my mom got the dress nearly done and it was time to try it on, stand on a chair to have it measured to be hemmed, I took one look at that dress and wanted to start crying.  Oh, not only was the material ugly and looked like something a missionary was given on the mission field dug from someone's cast aways, but the style was ridiculous!  Not wanting to hurt my mom's feelings for all the work she had done, I bore up under it as she hemmed that hideous dress.  There was no flow to the dress - the material was heavy, the ruffle near my shoulders looked like something resplendent from "Little House On The Prairie" and the pink ribbon around my waist tied in the back well, it made me feel like I was about six years old.  It was bad and I was in deep fashion trouble.  Prom night came and I was lacking most of the excitement that a person should hold for such a night for a myriad of reasons.  The doorbell rang and there stood my date.  No joke (you can't make this crap up!) if I thought I looked unbelievably ridiculous, you should have seen him.  His tuxedo pants were about 2-3 inches too short (they gave his tux in error to someone else), his vest did not reach his belt line, you could see a full half of his calf when he sat down, and his jacket sleeves stopped above his watch line.  It was all I could do to not laugh hysterically as I opened the door and my eyes first swept over him.  We were indeed a matched pair, fashion-wise anyhow:)  The picture of he and I shows us on my parent's deacons bench in the living room.  I have 1980's permed hair, braces, a little house on the prairie dress, some gaudy flowers and a look flashed across my face that was screaming, "UGH! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME I DON'T WANT TO GO!!"  My date is sitting next to me trying to look dapper in a tuxedo that was built for someone 4 inches shorter than him.  He is leaning over with one arm across his knee looking far more excited than I.  There is another picture of me pinning on his boutonniere with an actual scowl filling my entire face.  You know that night was just miserable for more reasons than clothing - but that didn't help!  I probably owe my prom date an apology for my lackluster presence that night.  So, Mike if you're reading, 27 years later - sorry I ruined your prom experience:)