Mollyisms and whatever else is bouncing around the room...

Tuesday, February 24, 2009


I finally made it out in public in the prom dress and it was pretty.


The concept was good, but we showed up and were the oldest people there. The girl I used to work with threw "prom" in her garage.

There were some pictures was taken in front of a backdrop she set up, and there was all kinds of streamers and crap hanging from the ceiling in neon colors. It was festive for sure, but everybody was young really young.

Most of the people got dressed up too, especially girls, but it was more of an 80s party than a prom party, except for the backdrop. Me, I just had this "prom" dress I got at the Salvation Army, but no matter how much blue eyeshadow I put on, my reach really exceeded my grasp.
The dress just had nothing 80s like about it, it was just the only one that fit. Terrible. These pictures are doing a number on my psyche, but to cope with it I just need to own my embarrassment. Therefore, I am posting this blog and going tanning because I am so pale I am practically translucent.

In my defense, the premise I was operating on when I left was this picture: taken at my house before leaving. It was on my phone and the lighting is well, different. The pictures in that bright light are somethin', I tell you what. In this picture, I still look sober and I think that's before I got the royal BLUE treatment.

I just looked like a crazy person, and then, I went to Wawa and saw these girls there that I thought had been at the party. They seemed sorta 80ish, I thought, so I went up and started talking to them like they had been there. They looked at me and my big "more blue, you need more blue!" eyes and laughed in my face.

I didn't really care because I was hammered off cheap pinot grigio, so I just started laughing hysterically and walking around wawa in the getup. At least I had a long coat on over it.
Everybody started smoking inside the garage too and now that I'm not a smoker it got to me more. Not that I ever really liked cigarette smoke on its second round anyway, but still, it got close... And the very bestest part of the smoking thing???

Remember all those streamers coming from the ceiling?

No, the place didn't go up in flames, don't worry, but I left before it had a chance to go up, or down, or anywhere.

Moral of the story?

I think I'm too old for prom.

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