Yeah, my parents don't either.
Recently, I was looking through pictures taken of milestone events in my young life -- you know, ring dance, graduation, and that very special night that holds so much promise, requires so much planning and is the subject of all too many teen romcoms -- the night you use your fake ID for the first time at the Jewish Mother when you're on a date and order a carafe of red wine and then complain to the waiter because it is (and I quote) "warm."
Actually, I'm talking about prom.
Back in high school, I was such a wannabe thrift-store-clothes-wearing, punk rock-loving, weird-guy dating chick. Instead, I was the irregular-Levi's-wearing, new wave-loving, normal-guy dating chick.
Fortunately, I was friends with some of the people I wanted to be like, so I figured I would prove just how "punk" I was by inviting one of these friends to the Bayside prom as my date. (Fun fact: I really did go to Bayside High School. Just like those mischievous imps on Saved by the Bell.)
This, gentle readers, is my prom photo from that night:
Talk about sticking it to the man.
My parents did not really understand, and my mother suggested that one day I would regret this choice.
And guess what? She was totally wrong. It may have been a little unorthodox, but at least I had a completely memorable prom experience that is still fun to reflect upon. As a matter of fact, during the discussion in a book club I was in several years ago, our chat turned to first loves due to a theme in the book we were reading. A woman in the group was talking about how she had dated the same guy all through high school and how they had gone to prom and how it was such a quintessential high school romance.
And to that, I got to reply: "Really? Because I went to prom with a bisexual Robert Smith lookalike."
So all these years later, I don't regret a thing. Except perhaps looking my prom date up on Facebook recently:
(And only because he looks wwwwaaaayyyyy better than I do.)
Lip syncing for my life,