get in the limo: cation designs!

i was worried this stretch cooper wouldn't be big enough for all these sewasaurus rexes, especially this heroic one.  we stomped around LA's garment district together, roaring like the dinosaurs we are, and now cation designs is in the virtual house, and she's bringing the AP party, yo!  get in that limo and give us some calculus!!! 

Seeing as how Oona was the first (and remains the only) sewing blogger I've ever had the privilege of meeting IRL, of course I was beyond excited for her birthday prom. Imagine my devastation, then, at learning that not only is it happening during my time away from TCOCC, but it is also during my husband's birthday weekend. Which means, of course, that there's no way to sneak down to Sew LA for this once-in-a-lifetime event. Ah, well. It looks like I'll just have to hop on the virtual limo...which makes it only the second limo I've ever been on, since I didn't do the whole limo-thing for any of my formal dances in high school.

I've already written before about my actual senior prom experience, so I won't go into that again, but just for Oona, I'm digging back into my blocked-out memories to tell you all about my senior boat dance experience. Senior Boat is when all the seniors get on one of those cheesy Hornblower-y cruises and make a little trip around the San Francisco Bay, and it's the first big senior event of the year. I don't think I would have gone, except that -- get this -- my AP Physics teacher announced that he would give extra credit to anyone who went to Senior Boat with another AP Physics student. His reasoning being, of all the nerdy kids at my very nerdy school, AP Physics students were the most in need of socialization, and this was his ploy to get us away from our books and out amongst the general population. Well, it worked. Only thing is, I decided to ask a guy from another high school, whom I'd met only briefly at a marine biology summer program a couple months before. We'd kept in touch via email, but I wouldn't say we really knew each other at all. All I knew was that he was taking AP Physics at his school and he was taller than me...obviously good reasons to spend five hours with someone. Let's call him Stewart.

Every time I look at this picture, I cringe a little.
Stewart and I had no idea how to pose for a couple picture,
so the poor photographer had to direct us. "Hold her hand!
Okay, now put your other arm around her waist!"

I had no idea what to wear to a semi-formal dance on a boat, so I ended up buying a pink, be-rhinestoned tank top and a pencil skirt at the mall, thereby managing a vaguely secretary-goes-to-have-drinks-before-dinner look. Yes. I was a paragon of fashion. Which was just fine, since Stewart managed to also look like a businessman who had taken off his tie after work. But, being that we were underage and good kids, there were no actual pre-dinner drinks. We both probably could have used a couple, though, since, as one might expect, we didn't have a whole lot to talk about aside from school and a few reminiscences about our summer not-a-fling. What made matters even worse was that he announced before dinner that he had money from his parents to pay for dinner for everyone and he would brook no arguments. Normally, having one's dinner paid for isn't a bad thing, but we were double-dating with my best friend and her date was none too pleased about oh, having his masculinity (in the form of paying for dinner) insulted; he spent the entire dinner bristling silently, refusing to speak, while Stewart remained oblivious and my friend and I chattered away madly in an attempt to prevent any awkward silences.

Like this, but in the dark, and facing each other.

After a supremely uncomfortable meal, we headed over to the boat and my friend and I were relieved of the task of making small talk, thanks to the Backstreet Boys, N*SYNC, and the like, all blasted at hearing loss-inducing decibels. Dancing, unfortunately, proved to be too much for Stewart and I; neither of us knew how to do much besides head-bob awkwardly (think: pigeons walking, only they happen to stay in the same place). This wouldn't have been so bad, except that Stewart stood head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd, so it felt to me like everyone was staring at my date and wondering why he couldn't dance. Mortified, I suggested that we stop dancing and go up to the top level of the boat to see the views of the bay and bridges. This being SF in the late fall, though, I promptly began freezing to death. And then there was the matter of making more conversation: we ended up talking about -- wait for it -- our calculus classes. Le sigh.

Thankfully, the evening didn't end altogether unpleasantly. After Stewart noticed how cold I was, we went back downstairs and, instead of attempting to dance some more, ended up drawing on the condensation on the windows. This was sufficiently goofy and random to suit me, and we parted on good terms. Unfortunately, the overall experience was poor enough that I stopped keeping in touch with him. However, I was able to salvage the night somewhat by learning about the dangers of using too hot an iron on polyester fabric, a very valuable lesson for a young future seamstress!

See, I decided to try to return my skirt to the mall and get my $20 back (a big deal, when you're in high school!) for a skirt I would probably never wear again. However, this plan required ironing out the wrinkles, and this was before I knew anything about fiber content and the melting point of polyester. Having made a nice row of shiny iron marks across the front of the skirt, what did I do? Did I give it up as lost? Never! That twenty dollars was lunch money for a week! Ever the intrepid (and more than a little clueless) teenager, I decided that the obvious course of action was to iron shiny marks onto the entire skirt. And you know what? IT WORKED. I successfully returned the skirt (to an equally clueless teenaged cashier), ate tater tots and It's-It ice cream sandwiches for lunch for another week, and resolved to only ever attend formal dances with actual friends. Thankfully, my job as a high school teacher means that I always have the option of attending formals with my best friend and husband, but as a chaperone instead of an angsty teen!

With my then-boyfriend-now-husband at a formal several years ago. I was just starting to discover my costuming tendencies and opted to wear a cape over my dress. I'm surprised he still wanted to marry me, even after that early warning sign.

Oona, it's only for love of you and your birthday that I'm willing to dig through not only my memories, but my high school photos, to put together this blog post recounting the sadly laughable story of how a nerdy girl does formal dances. I'm still a little shocked that I get to be included in the cool kids' limo, especially now that it is revealed how much of a dork I am! Happiest of birthdays, Oona, and thanks for giving us all a chance to relive prom!

the limo is all the cooler... and waaay smarter... because of you!  all the cool kids know that social events are better when there's extra credit involved.  it's like going to school, at night!  peeps, have you ever dated based on curriculum?

as if the IQ level hadn't risen enough, we're picking up ANOTHER scientist later this evening... yep, we're making daily double stops thru saturday to get this limo filled up in time for sunday's real life and virtual reality promaballoonas!  STEP ON IT, RUGGY!