random reflections

Tonight I went to Ross with my mom mainly because we were bored. I bought yet another summer outfit and she bought a few things we needed for the house, and while we were there I spotted The Dress. The Dress is a beautiful yellow dress that has some beadwork, not too much, and some overlapping layers. Forget the green dress and forget the blue dress from junior year proms, forget even the red dress from senior year prom (though I do love that dress). This would have been MY prom dress. There, in the store in the new Eastwood Village, I longed after another opportunity for a prom, for about 20-30 minutes. I longed for the chance to wear such a gorgeous dress, for the chance to go out to eat at an expensive restaurant, for the chance to borrow someone's much nicer, much less beat-up car, for the chance to complain about wearing high heels that are pretty for about the first thirty minutes a girl wears them, then she never wants to see them again in her life. I (sort of, but not really) longed for the twenty minutes' worth of trying to figure out the stupid boutineers and the best way to pin them on the guy's jacket (who the hell thought up that idea, I'll never know, nor understand why in the world they would do such a thing to us girls- don't we have enough to deal with?!). I really miss sitting in the salon for two hours getting my hair to do things I could never do with it myself (or else I'd have Christine Daaé curls everyday). I miss having an excuse to look like Cinderella at the ball and truly feeling like I am beautiful.

Sure, all these superficial things are things that truly make prom a "special" opportunity. But prom is really such an escape from "hanging out" with friends- even if you hang out with people at prom, it's prom. It's a different kind of hanging out. It's dancing badly and laughing about it and having an excuse to look like an idiot, but a beautiful idiot in one's glamour and glitter and makeup that's starting to get greasy and run all over the place and hair that's escaping from the layers of hairspray and miles of bobby pins and the forgotten shoes in some corner- of course, until prom's over or the couple decides to leave and the girl (and date, if he [or she :D] is nice enough to do so) madly searches in the dark for her shoes.

I don't know. Prom is such an odd, hard-to-explain experience. All this caused by a pretty dress that, no less, wouldn't fit me if I tried my hardest! A size 5? I don't think I've EVER been a size 5. Today at my annual pediatrician checkup my doctor thought the nurse had written my weight as 102 lbs. (I am, unashamedly, 152 lbs.). I don't think I've been less than 120 lbs. since I hit the seventh grade. I don't think I'm fat (although I hate where the fat is distributed on my body), and I wouldn't say I ever was, but honestly, 102? I think I would be in a hospital by now if I weighed 102 lbs.

Anyway, that just amused me, and has nothing to do with this post. I'll take my size 12 dress, thanks very much, and my "birthing hips" that I highly doubt I'll have to take advantage of anytime soon.

Hard to believe I'll be 19 in a little over two months (eighty days to be exact). I'm the youngest out of my friends (not by much- Charity was almost a Leo, so we're close), and Joseph and Steph will be 20 this year (!!). 19 just seems like such a bigger deal than 18. What the hell happens at 18? Okay, so you're nominally an adult and can vote, but I'm not free of a legal guardian (this we discovered when my dad passed away and my aunt had to sign off his will on behalf of me because I wasn't 19 yet...how does that make sense if I'm able to write?!). You know what's even more screwed up? I don't smoke, but chew on this- in the state of Alabama, one can smoke cigarettes at age 18; however, to buy them, one has to be 19.

?!

As I said, it's not a problem for me (and I hope it never will be; my asthma would protest for sure!) but I just had to throw in a little Alabama oddity for you.

In other news, my interview went well today, and I should be hearing back from TCP soon to meet with the board so they can ask some follow-up questions, etc. That'll be the nerve-wracking part...we'll see. Mom and I picked up my car today (they had to keep it overnight to let the epoxy glue settle in), and it turned out being $60 above what I'd gotten out of my savings acct.; luckily, Mom had the extra money, so thank goodness for that! My window is all fixed now. :)

Now I'm brain-dead, so I must retreat to the land of crazy dreams, if they're anything like the ones I had during my nap today. That is, after I start my work on the art-and-craft of making (yes, making- glue and all!) a Mother's Day card for my mom. We're going to see the rose show at the Botanical Gardens, a Mom-Dad-me tradition which is now just Mom-and-me (something that's equally hard on Mom and me) and spend the day. Saturday is going to be spent by me trying to convince Mom to go with me to Justin's baseball game. I love that kid!

ETA: So, being forgotten about kind of really sucks.