I get to kick off HONESTLY YA and the first round of posts with the topic TEENAGE RITES OF PASSAGE. Caps and gowns, bonfires, summer flings, first loves, and fancy dresses. Of all the quintessential high school experiences, what leaps to my mind is prom.
So, for most people prom falls into one of two categories: BEST or WORST night of your life. For me, definitely one of the worst. My mom was adamant. “You’ll regret it if you don’t go.” But I would’ve rather been home sneaking wine coolers and rereading Les Miserables or out piercing something on a whim.
If I’m being truly honest, at seventeen I never would’ve had the courage to pierce absolutely anything on impulse. Despite the five holes in my ears and my predilection for boys in colored mohawks (BTW-green is still my fav), I didn’t find the courage to pierce things on a whim until after college—well into adulthood. But I digress…
So prom…my mom and her guilt trip…blah, blah, blah. One problem, I was a total LOSER. No one asked me to prom and I didn’t have a boyfriend. Honestly, I’d never had a real boyfriend (random lip locking doesn’t count). I asked a junior to prom—no offense to the fantastic friend who deigned to be my date—I wasn’t into him like that. But still, It was PROM and I expected…magic.
Prom was dubbed “The Time of Our Lives” and held at the beautiful Sir Francis Drake hotel in San Francisco, about an hour from my hometown of Vacaville, California. Now, I don’t want to knock those who loved their prom and had the time of their life, but it wasn’t my experience. I remember seeing all these kids, dressed up and Wang Chung-ing it, or something—it was the late 80’s, after all—and the profound feeling of being an outsider. All I wanted to do was wander the darkened city streets in my dyed-to-match teal silk pumps and have a John Hughes-worthy angst fest.
In my book, THE HALO CHRONICLES: THE GUARDIAN, the main character, Alex, wouldn’t be caught dead at a dance. She and her Scooby gang skip homecoming for some big screen zombie mayhem. But when Gabriel, her first love, asks her to the spring dance, she agrees—against her better judgment. When she walks in, she has this completely foreign moment where she’d rather be anywhere else. Yep, you could say I channeled that from *ahem* personal experience.
So back to my prom…
Eventually I recovered, but Prom memories will forever be shrouded in darkness. In college, I did get asked out on dates. And as I matured, I learned to make my own magic…and pierce things.
|Thanks to the Vaca High class of '88 who sent me pictures of Prom!|
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