YA Highway: Prom

Firstly, it's my birthday tomorrow. And you know what would make my birthday AMAZING? If you went ahead...and participated in my Open Mic Blog Hop :) Or at least, stopped by to listen to my entry (that's right. LISTENED, not READ my entry).

Over at YA Highway, every Wednesday, they post a blog topic. This week is PROM. And, since I'm participating in the Oh, Those High School Dances Blog Hop, and I needed something to blog about, I figured, why not?

So prom...

First of all, I bought my dress the morning of prom. I'd gone shopping a million times, but couldn't find the one I really liked. Then, with last minute stress, I figured this was good enough. It cost $150, and the dress tag told me the color was Salmon, not pink, so that was also acceptable.

My date, Alex, and me

After driving around, getting my hair done, doing my nails, and hanging out with friends, we went to the dance. Getting Alex in was a little problematic as he was a senior in college and I was a senior in high school, so I lied and said he was younger, and boom, we attended my senior prom. I'd pretty much been with the guy since my freshmen year (though there were some complications), and everyone (teachers, friends, etc) knew him.We danced, and had an amazing night. 

Then, we went to after prom, which was lovely, and held at a local bowling alley/putt putt golf place. 

I just really like this picture

At around four or five a.m. after prom ended. Alex and I had an hour drive home. I stole a fish from prom, including the fish bowl, and I was really excited. Unfortunately, both of us were unGodly tired, and the music did a poor job of keeping me awake. So he drove, and I put my head against the window...and passed out.

I woke up when I heard the siren. I sat bolt upright when I looked in the mirror and saw flashing lights and felt the truck come to a stop. Alex rolled his window down, we handed the officer our IDs, and the officer made sure that I was safe, that I was okay. The entire time I was silently praying that we wouldn't get a ticket.

This is what I remember from a bit of the conversation.

Cop to me: Do your parents know where you are?

**I hated this question. I hated this question all through high school because I didn't live with my parents. My mother rarely knew where I was. After I'd moved out, it took her three days before she started calling around to figure out where I was. Also, every time Alex and I got pulled over, or got approached by cops (which happened on a pretty regular basis, actually), they always asked if I was okay when usually I was the one kidnapping Alex. I'm pretty sure it was because I was 16 with a 20 year old guy, or 17 with a 21 year old, or 18 with a 22 year old.

Me: I'm not sure...my sisters know where I am though! We're leaving prom! 

**I was faking being calm, and excited, because truthfully, I was terrified. In the back of my head I was chanting, Please don't give us a ticket, please don't give us a ticket...

Cop to Alex: I pulled you over because you were swerving.

Alex: I'm sorry, sir. I'm tired, we've had a long drive.

Me: Look! I have fish!

**I held the fish bowl up and gave him a thumbs up.

Cop to both of us: Have either of you had anything to drink tonight?

Both of us: No, sir
**At the time we were both straight edge. Heck, I was living with the guy and we never even had sex.

Me: We were at after prom!

**By now, I was pretty sure he thought I was at least drunk.

Cop: This late?

Me (or Alex, not sure): It was held in Auburn.

I proceeded to hold the bowl up for the officer to see. After a few more tense moments, and me acting crazy, and trying to get him to look at my fish, and probably the bracelets I got from the tables, and other various crap, he let us go, and told us to be safe. We didn't get a ticket. I held Alex's hand for the remainder of the drive.

We drove home, crawled into bed (because at this point, I was living with Alex). We laughed about getting pulled over, and though 90% of my senior year sucked, this night was one of the most fun nights I had.

Muses

Edgar Allan Poe once said "The death of a beautiful woman, is unquestionably the most poetic topic in the world."

I don't remember where I was when I first heard this quote, but I think of it often. Hands down EAP and Sylvia Plath are my literary role models. Partially because everyone knows their name, partially because their work rocks, but mostly, because they weren't afraid to write dark works, to not give a shit and write what they felt like. It was raw, and ugly, and brave. Ms. Plath killed herself. EAP pretty much died in an alleyway, drunk. They both had incredibly hard lives, and essentially died alone. I feel like I will join this club, too. (Morbid, and I'm sorry, but it's the truth. Anyways, back on the blog topic:)

So what do you write about?

Personally, I write a lot about relationships. If you read my Twitter Profile it'll tell you I have commitment issues (and it is so, so true). A majority of what I write revolves around boy/girl relationships because that's what I'm bad at. I have a million fucked up little relationships under my belt, and none of them ended well, but I made some awesome characters out of some of the guys. Some of those guys I owe entire stories to, some I owe partial mannerisms.

So how do EAP and this blog tie together?

Well, awhile ago, YALITCHAT was discussing portions of novels, and their relationships and how many story lines are driven by the relationship. Poe said the death of a beautiful woman was poetic, basically you can write about her forever because it's just so damn sad, such a waste. But a dead beautiful woman would mean nothing without the person around to miss her.

And there my friends, you will always have a story worth writing about, and a story worth reading.

Someone said that we all kind of write from the loves that we've lost, and I think it's true. Even as far back as I remember there is this one him that finds his way into each of my stories; whether it was the way he held my hand or the way he made me feel when he touched me. It doesn't matter, he's still there and without him, I'm not sure I would be able to write. I know about love because of him, I know about betrayal, strength, loss, healing...all of these things because of him. (This also kind of ties into the Write What You Know advice).

So like, EAP's beautiful woman popping up again and again, I write about the lost loves, that constant ache because to me that profound loss is something that people should know about.

Your thoughts?