What a strange ritual American teenagers have stumbled upon.
For a single night, they are willing to pay excessive amounts of money to look their best for a couple hours. Girls become obsessed with their nails and makeup, how they're doing their hair, do these shoes match my dress? It permeates into every aspect, taking control of all actions and conversations for weeks in advance. The Narcisism is mirrored only by the wealth of photographs taken from every angle to document the occasion. (your children will see these pictures)It is the epitome of cliches.
But it is so much fun.
Everyone was stunning. I had about 16 people stop at my house for pictures, and the Grand March went off without any tragedies. I thought dinner was great, and I had the time of my life dancing with Miles. Any guy who picks you up and spins you around, waltzes and knows all the lyrics to Pretty Fly for a White Guy is a keeper. Cait and Mark went off without a hitch (poly-cotton blend?)and she looked dazzling. Jeez, everyone did. Birk and Ben were amazing in white and Martin...well, she's just hot as hell. The music was above the standard, what with Aladdin, Grease, Pretty Fly and two performances of The Twist. I now have a new set of coffee mugs.
Martin's afterwards was fantastic. There was a bonfire, and tents, and there was hiccupping on all sides. It was a fantastic night. And I'll leave it at that.
ash @ 5:59 PM