Prom 2004

It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my young life, though I found it to be dreadfully borring.  Prom 2004, my Junior prom and the first formal dance I had ever been to was less entertaining than a day spent in the dentist's chair. 

I imagine it's because I'm not social and I don't enjoy dancing.  I'm sure that it was something wonderful to someone who enjoys such things, but for me, the best part of prom was getting dressed up; I will elaborate on the preparations, because they were the most entertaining part of the day.

My day started at 9:00 AM; not that I had been able to sleep the night before, because of my excitement.  On the ride over to Kirksville, my mother and I talked about her Junior prom, and what she wore, and how much things have changed and stayed the same.  My mom is awesome because she encourages me to be myself, dress how I wish and think for myself.

Mom and I had lunch out at McDonnalds, went to Goodys to shop for last minute jewelry, and to Why Not Tat2s in order to check on the tattoo designs Chad and Derrick are drawing up for us.  

It was my mother's idea that I get cornrows for prom, so at around 2:30, I found my tender scalp at the mercy of Evonne, sitting trapped in the beautician's chair at Cultural Connection.  I had been excited about my hair appointment ever since we set it up a month ago, but all my excitement soon wilted and died away when I realized how much it hurts to get your hair braided into cornrows.  My hair was pulled so tight that it felt like it was being ripped out, and with every twist, tug, and new braid, the pain only got worse.  

I guess it's true, what grandma used to say about beauty being painfull.  

Evonne was really friendly and cheerfull, all the while she was torturing my scalp.  It took two and a half hours to do half my hair in braids and beads, and she spiked the rest.  I looked delightfully freaky when she was finished.  

Once my hair was done, mom and I came home so I could get ready: the time I had been anticipating since January!  I was so thrilled to finally see myself in my entire outfit -- black velvet and lace Victorian dress, fishnets, and my usual pale skin and dark makeup. 

I spent nearly an hour on makeup alone -- a rarity for me.  I usualy take ten minutes of a morning, but prom is supposed to be special.

I did prom my way...slightly different, "freaky" as someone said, though I prefer the term beautiful. 

Prom is the one night in a young woman's life when she can feel like a princess no matter what her social status is.  I did feel like a princess, a princess whom had died and clawed her way back up from the grave.  People stared, and I knew they would, but I wouldn't have it any other way. 

I kept my head up the entire night, despite the difference in attire from my peers, the strange, dissapproving looks I recieved, and the silver Baphomet pendant of my mothers that hung around my neck. 

I realized, sitting a the table all alone through every slow dance, that so many of those happy couples thing they're in true love, when in reality, it's lust that won't last but only a few months.  It seems silly to say "I love you" when you're someone who's been hurt so often and rejected so many times. 

I would have enjoyed prom itself, if I was a person who takes things at face value and finds delight in social situations.  I would rather bask in the dissapproving stares -- it proves to the people who hate me that they're not going to keep me down, keep me from going somewhere when I want to, or being myself.  

Prom was the ultimate experience in defying tradition; I loved it.