Prom Night

Did I mention that my reunion - my freaking 20th high school reunion - is this weekend? This is a picture of me and the boy I was sure I would someday marry. We dated for three high school years (which are like dog years.) We were certifiably the old married couple of our crowd. I couldn't get the scanner to work so the better picture I have is languishing here on my desk. Otherwise you'd see what an incredible dress I was wearing. It was a Victor Costa, knee length, cocktail dress that my mother refused to buy for me on the grounds that a) it was too 'mature' for me and b) it cost $250. Evil (and pissed off) child of parents who were mid-divorce that I was, I got my father to buy it for me. My mother was furious. "What's your damage?" I remember asking her. (<--What a pill I was! Did you catch the part where I was pissed off that my parents were divorcing?) I'm lucky I got to go to prom. I'm lucky I had a head in this picture! I was actually already enlisted in the Navy and leaving in a few short weeks, so I suppose my mom figured ripping my head off might be a breach of contract or something. I can't imagine any other reason for appearing unscathed in this picture. Be that as it may, I had a FANTASTIC time at prom. Twenty. Years. Ago. I can't get over that part. And now, will someone please explain to me why my children (who are too close to their own prom nights for my comfort) are "creeped out" at this picture of me? Anyone? They just hee and haw and make shivery, shuddery motions. I guess being a pill runs in the family.

Peace.