San Dimas High School Football Rocks!

Prom was, to be frank, fucking amazing. Far better than any actual prom I might have had could have been–I certainly wouldn’t have been prom queen at my honest-to-gooness high school!

It was Alice-themed. My hair was twisted and tied up in an amazing array and topped with ribbon and peacock feather. My dress had a train and finger-hook for said train. Grailquestion wore a suit and hat, and gave me a corsage with white and red roses–the Queen she likes them red, you know. The space was…well, in a better world, I would totally live there. It was the coach-house next door to a genuine Victorian mansion, where the coach-house is bigger than any house I’ve ever lived in. The central, glossy hardwood room was the size of about six living rooms and strung with lights, with a croquet set in the center and a pert Griffin and Mock Turtle plushie set on the fireplace mantle. (We are deeply hoping we will be allowed to hold the Orphan’s Tales launch party there.)

As for the rest? It was Prom. There was a tiara and a bouquet of flowers. The music went over splendidly, with many groans-yet-compulsive-dancing and the entire party rushing out onto the floor to imitate Saint Gary of teh Internets during Numa Numa. Much bumping and grinding of various gender combinations was to be witnessed. Someone spiked the punch. (Is there any vodka cheaper than Popov? asks MST3K) Everyone was pleasantly tipsy but no one vomited or got knocked up, despite all attempts at an authentic prom experience. My feet still hurt from dancing, even though aftercare was provided in the form of the coach-house’s marvelous hot tub. We danced till almost 3 am.

There are picture sets here (godlyperspectiv‘s) and here (gieves‘s, who looked amazing in her green dress and completed the scene by walking around with a camera around her neck and was duly elected honorary yearbook committee.) I will attempt to refrain from cringing at my current weight, but will probably fail. How is it I don’t see that in the mirror in the morning?

And you know, I looked around and thought that this was the kind of thing people say they’re going to do and never actually get around to, except that I am so loved here, and godlyperspectiv and grailquestion actually did work this hard just to give me a silly experience of Americana that shouldn’t be as important as it is. If I could, I would have been up all night weaving a spiderweb over their heads: SOME HUMANS. Alas, I am missing vital anatomy. But they are. Thank you, guys.

And now I have Grass-Cutting Sword galley to proof, for the three of us are off to Tom and Huck it down the Mississippi for a couple of weeks come Friday–so if you have business to do with me, get it on my radar before then.

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