The Prom: 'A Night to Remember' (Whether You Go or Not)

That's right. The prom. Many high schoolers would put little sparkles and hearts around the title, followed by someone's initials and a date. Not me. When the talk of a prom that I would be able to attend rolled around several months ago, I snorted at the prospect. Me? In a ball gown, with some great guy dancing the night away and taking tons of pictures. It didn't appeal to me - it didn't fit the idea of myself that I held in my head. And so, I forgot it - until we happened upon a white, jeweled, full skirted ball gown that made me feel like Cinderella, completely without the customary soot and dust. Suddenly, the prom seemed like a magical place full of people waiting to admire me in all my sequined glory. I wanted that image, but I was firm that if I were to go, I must have a date. I wanted to either ask someone that I really, really would enjoy myself with, or forgo it altogether.

As the mental picture of myself in shimmering splendor faded, though, the prom fell out of my mind again, and I didn't search for a date. I was sure I didn't want to go with just anyone. I wanted to have the perfect experience. However, because of my aforementioned guy-friend shortage, and my past, unpleasant experiences with overly romantic boys, no readily available young men seemed to appear.

Then came dance class. What seemed like the possibility of so much fun and possibly pre-prom-worthy moments turned out to be an all-time low in the self-esteem area. Because I have long supported the 'the man goes after the woman'way of viewing guy-girl interactions, I wasn't one of the girls who immediately grabbed whichever partner I wanted. I wanted so badly to be picked for who I was, and, honestly, for what I looked like. It didn't happen. I ended up having to learn the male/lead part for every traditional dance, and it was pretty terrible. I have never felt as undesirable as I did then - there's just something about that age-old feeling of being selected out of all the others by someone. But I didn't get that feeling.

Oh, dear, we're getting much too depressing for normal conversation, aren't we? Anyway, when prom did roll around in earnest, all those girls from dancing class went with their very own dates - the boys they had selected from the very first lesson. I didn't go. No dress. No date. No hair and makeup. No...pictures. What pictures. The day after on Facebook was nearly insufferable. All those pretty faces, and it looked like so much fun. I knew that I would remember not attending the prom just as clearly as I would have remembered going.

So, I suppose it bothered me much more than I had anticipated. I felt forgotten, left behind, completely unwanted. I felt like I was supposed to be Cinderella, and I had missed the ball.

My mother assured me that my story was one of many disappointed, would-be princesses. That's my question to you: am I alone? Did you go to your prom, or did you decide against it? Were you asked, or did you ask someone to go with you? Was it every bit as magical and perfect as we all think, or was it a letdown?

I really want to know. My Life Is Backwards today because of those few moments I felt so much like Cinderella, but I seemed to have missed my first ball.

Share your prom story with me in the comment section below.

- Mae fy mywyd yn ôl.

Failure as a blogger, thy name is Sophia

Ohmygoodness! I cannot believe I am such an awful blogger. It's just been, like I said last time, without a whole lot of dilemma, conflict, and crisis. Which makes for a pretty humdrum life, if you know what I mean. But whoever said anything was wrong with humdrum? It's probably better than constantly being in emotional and intellectual turmoil. At least that's what I think. However, it does make me feel pretty silly writing to the interweb along the lines of, "Today I went to the dentist. I need to get a filling in one of my molars, or I might get a cavity." or even the highly riveting, "Today I electrocuted myself. It hurt for a couple of minutes, and then it didn't anymore." Personally, that sounds a bit more like a MyLifeIsAverage post than a MyLifeIsBackwards one.

One piece of fun information, though - I got my permit! I finally have a photo ID, which - gasp - I have never ever had! When I wanted to go tanning a while ago, I had to bring in my birth certificate and my social security card. That's a bit much - all they wanted was a school ID or something, but, of course - I'm 'home educated,' so I did not have anything to prove I was who I said I was. It was the same story with me riding the train from Rochester, NY to Albany (which was the best time I've had in a while, by the way).

Anyway, I passed the test with a 100%. The hard part was getting my parents (who somehow still think of me as 10 years old) to let me get behind the steering wheel. I have to admit, it is pretty scary, operating an enormous piece of 'heavy machinery.' But I was pretty proud of myself for passing that adult-ish milestone. My parents were shocked back on December 6th when I didn't demand to be taken to the DMV because of my 16-year-old-ness. I just wasn't motivated. I am now, however, and I'm really enjoying the experience of learning something so new and strange. I still accidentally turn on the windshield wipers when I mean to put on my signal (which, for some reason, I call 'blinking'). I said to my brother on our first drive, "Oh! I should have blinked at that corner, shouldn't I?" He was extremely confused for a second, before figuring out what I meant to say. Since then, I can't think of anything else to call 'putting on the signal.'

[Biiig sigh] Well, now I feel better about life. I am no longer falling down on the job with this bloggy-thing. Except, I can't think of a reason My Life Is Backward...
I'm sure there's some reason! :) Maybe you could come up with some of the times your Life Is Backwards and leave it in the comments for me to mull over?

- Твојот живот е наназад!

P.S. In case you don't speak Macedonian like me (heavy sarcasm), that's the language used above.