fast times at takhar high

I graduated from high school in 1995 with one best friend, chopped off bleach blond hair and a pledge to myself that I would only ever buy punk rock cassettes. I didn't go to grad because dresses back then were only from Value Village and only worn with old men's used boots and t-shirts layered over top. I made those 4 years as unintentionally memorable as possible. Sometimes in life you get a do over. That sometime for me was Saturday night when I held my own Senior Prom as my birthday party theme. It was fucking awesome.

The build up to my 32nd birthday was as lame as possible. Planning a theme party, even with the greatest of help from the greatest friends who will allow you to be the bossiest sarcastic cretin possible and still buy you things, is tough. Any idea I had, any whimsical thought that popped into my head, I had to do. Must have. Must create. And if I don't the party will be ruined and life will stop and smell like a tuna skunk sandwich. My brain tortures me sometimes and I absolutely let it. And then I had my eyes tested. The Doctor is really impressed that a girl my age has the eyes of a 76 year old's 100 year old cat. Then I got ID'd twice and life was pure and sweet once more.

Oh, and I found an outfit for the party just in time, after nearly having to gnaw my way out of a few dresses that went on just fine, but got caught on my panic flab coming back up. I almost had a lose your shit scream party in the Value Village change room, which was approximately the size of my car trunk, with me, 76 vintage dresses, a cart and my pants puddled at my ankles. I made it out alive with a beautiful dress, a sweater that upon washing suddenly unleashed the fury of a million moth balls and was banished to the deck to dry and unstink, and a really cute vest that I want to simultaneously sleep with, wear, clone and coo at.

The day of dawns. An example of my retard brain – in the time it took three saints friends to decorate the apartment to my even cuntier than Martha Stewart-like specifications, I made one sign. I printed letters on paper, cut them out, hole punched them and strung them together individually with dental floss. Here is what it looked like:

The I did 2 more. I was so involved with making that minute detail perfect, I almost didn't get up when we heard the raddest car crash outside. There is a corner to the right of the building that defies time and space and is known around town by me, as Honk Square. There's nothing special about it, people just don't know who has the right of way. So after years of tease screeching and honking, WE GOT ONE! (Said in Annie Potts voice while slamming down a phone ala 'Ghostbusters') We eventually made our way out to the deck and watched the cars come to a jerky stop and when the smoke cleared and we saw nobody was hurt, we went back in to finish getting ready. Oh, but not before Jackie made the "We heard it so we came out" joke to the neighbours beside us on their deck and we all laughed a little too hard considering we were very close to people very scared for their lives so I Mom-shushed everybody.

The party was stupid fun. We set up a backdrop and camera and took pictures that made us double over for hours. Yes, the 3-tiered fountain with flashing lights didn't work, even after two engineers pulled it apart, but I did get to hear my Mom use her "I'm a dental assistant that raised two kids, I can fix that mofo fountain" voice when I told her the next day. The playlist I'd requested that Nuv proclaimed was way too long stopped at 2 am while we were still annoying the neighbours, so I totally could have kept the entire Grease soundtrack on there. (Just finished a bath where I stared solemnly into the tap and belted out, "It's raining on prom night, oh what can, OH WHAT CAN I DOOOOO, IT'S RAIIINNNNNIIINNNNGGG, rain from the skies," in perfect pitch, key and tone.)

My nieces were there in teeny dresses and nearly every girl there wanted to eat their cute faces. The snacks were perfectly gluten free, my cake, ohmygod, pink strawberry cake that regular people liked even, which kind of sucked because we ate it all and I thought I might have leftovers, and I didn't see any until the next morning, hung over, getting a glass of water for a sweet sweet Motrin I found this:


Also gorgeous were my friends, the gifts I got, my Husband (! x 1 bazillion) and the love I felt all around me as my favourite song (Happy Birthday. Really, I love it. It's never bad.) was playing. 

The good life? I gots it.