returning to work, high school proms

It's only a few days before I go back to work, and I don't think I've ever had so much red wine in such a short amount of time! I'm sure it will be fine once I get there, but I'm worried about how Greta will adjust with the trifecta of a new preschool, a new nanny, and an absent mommy. So, in order to reduce the stress, I've taken to corresponding with a musician friend of mine, who is planning an adult prom/murder mystery night on August 9 in San Francisco. Instead of blogging about the kids, here is an excerpt of an e-mail to my friend regarding my senior prom. Oh, and no slight meant to Santa Rosa - I actually love it there now, but in high school, you know, everyone wants to escape the town they grew up in. Do you have any memorable stories about your prom? Post them in the comments so I don't feel so alone in my loserdome! Here's my prom story.....

My prom was weird -- I guess most people's are. I didn't have a boyfriend at the time. I mainly hung out with the drama and artsy crowds, but my guy friends in that group already had dates. Nobody asked me, so I ended up asking a dreadlocked skateboarder (replete with half-pipe in his backyard) to come with me. I hadn't even talked to him before, except to say "hi" in the quad at lunchtime. But I liked the way he looked, wearing those thrift store bermuda shorts and all. His image fit in with the reggae and ska I was listening to at the time. Even better was his name -- Ron Regular. True story.

Before the main event, Ron and I had several stilted phone calls, in a lame attempt to get to know each other. It didn't really work, although I did get to see him skate on the afore-mentioned half pipe -- he was pretty good. On the evening of, in an effort to break from the suburban hell that is Santa Rosa, we went to dinner in San Francisco at a place called "Squids" with my two best girlfriends and their dates. My friend Cathy's date came out of the closet shortly afterward, so needless to say, these weren't matches made in heaven. Also, whoever thought squid would combine well with an abundance of cheap liquor wasn't thinking.

After dinner, we returned to Santa Rosa in time to catch the prom's fading hours. The dancing with Ron, what little there was of it, was awkward at best. Turns out, we didn't have much in common, so I spent most of the night hanging with my girlfriends. It was our one and only date.

For years afterward, I felt like a loser (a) for having to ask someone to my prom, and (b) for asking someone I didn't and would never know. In my adulthood, whenever the topic arose, I tried to loosen up and recount my story, my inner voice reassuring me that it was "so long ago." Yet, inevitably, I'd find myself quickly changing subjects for fear that the shy gawky girl behind the confident facade would be exposed. But now that I look back on the experience, I'm thankful I wasn't one of those "lucky" girls who went with their dreamy high school sweethearts, and who happily remained in Santa Rosa to start making babies in their youth. Not that there's anything wrong with the route they took, but I'm rather grateful that the only reminder I have from my prom is the story I can (reluctantly) tell about it.