Dance with the one that brung ya

Posted by Cassondra Murray May 9 2012, 10:35 am in Cassondra Murray, Cassondra's blogs, memories, prom, spring

It’s prom season.  I don’t have kids, so can you guess how I know this?

It’s because I tried to go to dinner last Saturday night with some friends.  We pulled into the parking lot of our favorite place, and outside the restaurant door was a crowd of gorgeous young women in ball gowns, mixed with boys looking uncomfortable in tuxedos. 

We just turned around and went to another place.  More ball gowns.  Big poofy ones this year. Seems to be a retro thing happening with poofy dresses for weddings and proms. 

Good luck finding a restaurant on Saturday if it’s prom night.That’s just the way it is in the town where we live. 

I never know these things in advance.  And if we’re there before the “prom crowd” it’s kind of fun to watch the girls arrive in their pretty gowns and the boys looking awkward and awestruck by how great the girls look. *grin*  Fun to watch the guys try to use gentlemanly manners and pull the chairs out for the girls and such.

I never went to prom.  When I was in high school, I had gigs booked months in advance, to play at places somewhere around the state, and both of the years I could have gone to prom, I realized too late that I’d booked the date.

And I never honestly felt the loss of that.  It seemed like a really expensive evening just to be uncomfortable.  And pretty much everybody was uncomfortable. Although I love drama in writing, I don’t like it in real life, and when it came to acquiring just the right prom date, there was always drama. Much, much drama.

But apparently prom has changed over the years.  Now I see groups of girls going to prom, even without dates, and I see groups of guys dressing up and going to hang out.  Or groups of “just friends” going to hang out together.  Bunches of girls get out on the floor and dance with each other, and bunches of guys do too…it’s a big, fun party.   I think that’s really cool.  A fun time with friends.

I never knew of anybody doing that when I was that age.  You had to dance with the one that brung ya, mostly.

And see that dress over there on the left?  The really beautiful backless purple one?  Yeah. That one.  I saw girls out at the restaurants in dresses much skimpier than that a couple of years ago–this was before the poofy craze I guess.  No way would my folks have let me leave the house in that dress at age 17. 

And prom has changed in other ways too.  Everybody I hear of gets a limo to the prom, and now instead of the Juniors decorating the high school gym for the Seniors to party, people go out to hotel ballrooms, and the kids have to buy actual tickets.  Expensive ones.  Like the kind of expensive that would buy tickets to a Broadway show.  And I understand they don’t even stay long or dance. That they mostly just go out to eat somewhere expensive, show up for a few minutes to “be seen” and then go driving around in the limo.  The bill for dress, flowers, tickets, car and food–oh and hotel afterwards–which, I’ve gotta say, boggles my mind in all kinds of ways that have nothing to do with money–anyway this bill can run in the thousands of dollars.

No way.   Nu-uh.  although having a photo with my friends as cool as this one above–that might be almost worth it.

But now….Can’t see it happenin’ so it’s probably good that I don’t have kids.

But some of y’all do.

So what about you, Bandits and Buddies?

Did your high school have a prom?

Did you go?

Did you have a date?  Or are you young enough that “going as a group” was okay.

Did everybody just get up and dance?  Or were you restricted to “one partner at a time?”

Did you like your dress (if you’re a girl) or if you’re a guy, was that the first time you’d worn a tux?  Did you hate it?

Did you rent a limo?  Or did you drive your dad’s car (what most of the guys did when I was in high school)

Was it at the high school gym?  Or was it at a fancier place?

And what was the bottom line?  What did it cost to go to your prom, including dress, tickets, and all the fixins?

And if you have kids, have you been through this rite of passage yet?  And was it very different from your own?

Oh and I’m late once again…I’m out of town working and I just flat forgot.  It’s been so long since my prom that I seem to be getting senile.   Sorry, y’all.

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Camp Prom

Posted by Susan Sey Aug 2 2010, 4:36 am in camping, Jo Beverley, prom, Susan Sey

by Susan Sey

When I was in high school, we referred to the junior/senior prom simply as Prom. Not the prom. Prom. Proper noun. As in, “Are you going to Prom?” “Anybody ask you to Prom yet?” “I found a wicked awesome dress for Prom this weekend. It’ll rock with my black lace half-gloves & asymmetrical haircut.”

Maybe it was a generational thing. (Those gloves sure were.) Because I also seem to remember referring to summer camp that way. “You sign up for Camp yet?” “I’m doing the two-week Camp this summer, plus a week of CIT training.” “I can’t wait for Camp.”

I, like many geeky misfits, lived for Camp. (Prom not so much.) Camp was time out of time, a brief respite from a social hierarchy cemented in elementary school. Camp was full of kids who didn’t know about the time in 3rd grade when you barfed corn dogs all over Mrs. Ecklestein’s floor, and had never heard about your ill-fated flirtation with the crimping iron and stirrup pants.

Camp was a new wardrobe, a clean slate & a fresh start.

But more than that, Camp was also full of friends. Not just friends, though. Peers. Like-minded souls. Camp usually self-selects–church camp, horse camp, choir camp, sports camp…whatever it is, you’re suddenly surrounded by people who love what you love.

Camp means finding your People. And time with them is precious. Brief. A cherished few weeks or days once a year.

I have finally realized that RWA’s national convention is my new Camp.

I take a few days each summer to spend with my People. People who understand that the only thing scary about hearing voices in your head is the possibility that one day they may disappear.

People who fling around terms like Pantser & Plotzer with completely straight faces.

People who nod with grave sympathy when you tell them you chickened out of a fan girl moment for the fifth year in a row & tell you about the time they had one too many glasses of wine and didn’t chicken out of their fan girl moment but sincerely wish they had.

I’m home now, exhausted from the travel & late nights. Terrified by the work ahead of me that seemed so possible and thrilling when I discussed it with my People just a few days ago.

And I have a whole year to walk through before it happens again. A whole book to write. Maybe two.

But I’m also energized from floating on all that creative energy, and motivated by having spoken by goals out loud to people who won’t hesitate to kick my butt for me should I hesitated to follow through.

So now? Now I get to work. Wish me luck. And don’t be afraid to drop me a stern email every now & then to make sure I’m on track.

How about you? What’s your oasis every year, your respite from the grind? Who are your People, & where do you find them? How do you keep going between visits?

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