The Prom has a French Theme...

We had our Pre-prom pizza party last night, to mark the buying of the dress by the ladies. They had a motto and motivation for the dress they chose. I hadn't the patience to sit and listen to the entirety of the story. Suffice it to say, there was a complete story behind the French style of the dress chosen by Emily. Next is the hair, I didn't hear the story behind the hair. They are not going to have it done, they are working on it in symphony with eachother. I think even Enoch has something to say about the hair.
I am afraid of Enoch getting involved in the hair. He has a vendetta against Emily for a bad haircut she gave him when she was feeling artistic with the clippers, one day. I don't know how he will repay her kindness.

She is going to the prom. I am going to work, today. I will miss the festivities of the prep work. I am glad to know that my assistants have the rest of the story under control and that my Emily keeps me posted on the details.
Emily has a group of cherished friends, some artists and some not, I suppose. Artists have their own vocabulary and sometimes I don't get it. Not that I am not an artist, but my art is intensely verbal and their art is intensely visual. Some things can't be translated between the two languages.
I contributed a luscious breakfast of Applesauce Buckle, for the crew. A far cry from the usual grits and eggs or left over pizza for Saturday morning breakfast. They understand that I have to go to work at 11:30 and that I will be here in spirit. When I see Emily tomorrow, after the prom, she will be a new woman and have been through something that I will never understand, because I didn't go to mine...



This morning was the story of why I didn't go to my prom and the ensuing near catastrophe that erupted. That is the story every prom, (we've only had one other).
I am not bitter, I just love telling the story. I am still a little sore, I guess. My prom was at the Plaza Hotel and I spent my entire Senior year arguing with mom about what time I was going to come home from prom. 10 oclock was the time that she had set. So I said never mind, I am not going. The real deal was we probably didn't have the money for me to go. I joined the choir at Bethel instead and what would have been my prom night was rehearsal. I came in at 10, as she insisted and went to bed, only to wake to the smell of smoke. I walked through the house looking for the smoke. We couldn't turn on the light in the attic from upstairs so I went through out the whole house looking for the smoke and I didn't find anything burning. I gave up and turned on the light in the attic to go upstairs and there was the smoke. The bulb from their light had fallen onto the mattress between Amy and Jo. Dad and I carried the mattress and Jo and Amy outside and began to douse the mattress with water from the hose in the front yard, also keeping A and Jo outside to breathe. The mattress burst into flames later on. We learned what a hot house a mattress can be and Mom said that was the reason that she kept me from going to the prom, case closed. That is my prom story.Yo-Yo Ma is so super
The dress is adorable, anyway. It has 5 flounces and it is black and one of those dresses that moves when you do the charleston. I told her that if she doesn't do the charleston at the prom, I am not speaking to her. :)