First off, let me tell you...we have some extremely talented people in our church that turned a gymnasium into an Old Hollywood ballroom complete with a red carpet entrance, lit marquee, flash-lighting paparazzi, cheering fans, a gold chandelier, sparkling lights, the "Hollywood" letters, and lots of glitz and glamour. I wish I had taken pictures but you'll just have to use your imagination.
Oh...I do have pictures of Gary and I before prom. You want to see those...right?! These three pictures help me to understand why my chiropractor blurts out (every time I see him) "YOU HAVE THE WORST POSTURE!!!" Really, Shanon...stand up straight!!!
Also, I had the hardest time picking out something to wear. Last time I went to prom, taffeta was the fabric of choice, puffy was the sleeve of choice, and peach was the color of choice. Oh...you want to see a picture? Okay...but I'll warn you, it could be more taffeta than a person ever wants to see. Remember...the puffier and peachier, the better!!
Oh, and I had a lot less wrinkles, was 20+ pounds lighter, and I hadn't had 5 babies yet. Babies are cute and fun but they don't do good things to a girl's figure.
Gary's mom called in the middle of our photo session so I checked to see how we looked so far.
Gary kept on talking, so I had to get a little annoyed.
Okay...back to the photo shoot. Maybe if you just take us from the waist up, it will look okay.
Try standing up straighter.
Try smiling bigger.
"Sorry Mom, that's the best I can do...I'm not a miracle worker!" (she didn't really say that, but I could tell that's what she was thinking.)
So, why do I need Gary to call my therapist? Well, we got to prom and were assigned the gym for the first hour. There was this girl standing all by herself. She was off to the side, kind of hidden away by the room divider, dancing a bit to the music and people would walk by but no one was talking to her. As I stood there feeling awkward for her, I told Gary that this was bringing back memories of being a teenager {shudder} and I might need extra therapy.
Well, God must really love me because guess what?! My therapist (You aren't surprised I have a therapist, are you? I didn't think so.) walked by! What are the odds?! So, Gary told her that I was having high school flashbacks and she told me that I was having perfectly normal PTSD feelings and just breathe deeply. Haha....not really (the breathe deeply or PTSD part...my therapist really did stop and talk to us for several minutes. She was feeling the same sad feelings for the girl standing all alone and was having her own flashbacks of an awkward prom with a blind date that was an exchange student who spoke no English. She won the prize for the most traumatic prom story.)
The girl eventually found her friends and danced with them all night, we accepted the fact that we are old and don't have the energy to dance to a whole fast song (did you know that they STILL play "Footloose" at dances but now they have a line dance that they do and it involves a lot of jumping. It made me tired just watching it!) and boys STILL don't ask girls to dance!
At the end of the night, we found a couple of chairs to sit in to rest our weary feet. We watched this girl walk by, kind of swaying and twirling to the slow song and this boy walked right behind her and I thought for sure he was going to ask her to dance but he just made small talk for a split second and then sat down at the table TO PLAY CARDS!! It took all that I had to not stand up and shake him and say "YOU ARE AT PROM...ASK HER TO DANCE!!!"
*Breathe deeply, Shanon....you are just having a flashback...go eat some chocolate!!*
We actually had a very nice evening. It was fun to hang out with the young whippersnappers for a night but I would not go back to being a teenager even if someone offered me all the money in the world. How did we survive that?!
Thank goodness for therapists!!
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