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Formal Well, I didn't think it was possible for the cheerleaders to booty-dance to "YMCA" in a prom dress and heels. I guess I know better now. Welcome to the 8th grade formal, everybody. The 8th grade formal in Georgia suburbs, no less. You've got your Shania Twain, your other Shania Twain, more Shania Twain, "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy," and some BSB, Eminem, and 50 Cent thrown in there every now and then. No, I'm not exaggerating.But now that I've complained about the music, we actually had a really wonderful time. I wore (because I know you're wondering) a short black spaghetti strap dress with a little ruffly black shirt thing that ties in the front, and sparkly black three inch heels that absolutely killed my feet. Even then, Keith was taller than me. Not fair. I danced with him once, and spent all the other slow songs scampering around with my camera, taking pictures of my friends and their various dates/partners/guys they really don't know at all. BJ said the look on my face when I was dancing with Keith was priceless; I really was trying not to look exasperated, I swear. Katie and her parents picked me up, and Katie was all done up in her poufy $350 dress and fluffy hair. It's really fun to just act totally barbaric in front of her mother, a very southern blonde country-club-ish house wife, so when it was time to stand outside and pose for a picture (ugh), I grabbed a handful of Goldfish, shoved them in my mouth, put my hair in a ponytail with a fuschia rubberband, and grinned. It's a great game: See if you can make Donna SHOW her disgust! But tying with that for the most amusing moment of the night was Hunter (Please see Sagen's Ode To Hunter.) In a black collared button-down shirt, black belt, black pants, black shoes, very gelled hair, and posing for pictures with his hands on his knees, he was looking gayer than the dance's purple "Carousel" theme. Gayer than the hairdresser a few doors down from my dance studio. Gayer than KEITH, even. Ironic, huh? Other notable moments: Someone bumped into Indy, who bumped into Carly, whose scarily sharp heels squashed BJ's toe, making it bleed all over the floor. I got a picture of that. Indy's sparkly scarfy shawl thing got soaked with Coke, and she was wringing it out over the trash can. Sagen got a picture of that. We did the obligatory cheesy circle dances to "Graduation" and "Follow Me," and during those I got shots of the very interesting facial expressions that result from taking pictures when people aren't ready, especially Arwen, Amber, and Ashley, who all looked drunk. Well, crap. It's midnight and I have to get up and go to Savannah on a school trip in 5 hours. 'Night. 2003-05-11 @ 10:34 p.m. |