My Senior Prom Journey As Told By Gifs

Hello people of the internet! And welcome to my second "as told by gifs" post!

This time around I will be telling you the tale of my high school senior prom using the snippets of looped motion known as gifs. I promise that this story is not pathetic as it seems and apologize for the super long source list at the bottom. Now that that's out of the way...

FYI: I didn't want to use this one but I couldn't find a gif that said "let's get on with it."

The first thing that struck me as I was cleaning out my locker on the last day of my Junior year wasn't that I was one more step away from college-and the horror stories that would be my future roommates-nor that I had yet to learn how to drive. No, what consumed my young seventeen year old mind was that pinnacle of the high school experience, the crown jewel of teenhood simply known as the senior prom.




Don't get me wrong, my Junior prom was great and I enjoyed every single second of it. In fact I was so overjoyed that as I sat on the steps of the hotel where it was hosted-waiting for my sister to show up-I broke into a rendition of I enjoy being a girl from the Flower Drum song! When I did it at the time I felt like:



But now that I am older and look back on it I feel like:



But I digress, the point is even though I thought my junior prom was excellent I knew my senior prom was going to be AWESOME! I firmly believed this because at the time I thought I was going to:

1. Workout and diet the whole summer and get a super hot body for my troubles



2. Find a dress so fabulous it would make all the other girls feel like they were wearing potato sacks in comparison.



3. Find me a delicious piece of man candy to dance the night away with!

You had me at come on

With this in mind I stormed out of school determined to make these dreams into a reality. On the first note: even though I did lose a pretty good amount away I didn't get the banging body I envisioned in my head...mainly because I can't say no to sweets.

On the second note: I didn't just find one dress but two. The first one was a green princess-like-ball gown that I swept off a thrift store rack. Even though my mom agreed that it was beautiful she was hesitant because it was two sizes too small. But after some-and by that I mean a lot-negotiating-and by that I mean begging-and promising that I would slim down to fit it she brought it for me. At the time I was totally confident that I could do it, I mean, losing two dress sizes couldn't be that hard, right?



It wasn't really the sweets that screwed me over but more so the overwhelming stress of being a senior, moving again to a new house-and lying about it since it was literally a few feet out of my schools district-and trying to figure out what college to go to as well as how the hell I was going to pay for it.

What does FASFA even mean!?

Despite this I was still determined to fit into that dress, even though at that point the only way I could would be if the liposuction fairy payed me a visit. Then one day, on the car ride home, I heard a radio station announced that they were going to be selling prom dresses that saturday. Since my family and I had nothing planned that week we thought that it would fun to go down and take a look. When the day arrived we got up really early, hoping to get a good spot in line but-much like my registration journey-we thought that the line would be like this:

When it was actual like this





Despite the mount Everest of teenage girls that stood between me and the store I still got in line, ending up two whole blocks away. The good news was I only had to wait ten minutes. The bad news was I only had to wait ten minutes because the store ran out of dresses.




Heartbroken I decided to make a last ditch look into a nearby Ross. At first I was about to give up but then I caught sight of the garment my mom had in her arms: It was a cocktail dress made out of black taffeta-like material with a band cobalt blue sliver on the bust and a ribbon that cinched it at the waist. I practically floated into the dressing room and when I put that dress on I felt like, I felt like, well:









I felt so good in that dress I knew it had to be mine! So I put the green princess gown in the closet and found some ass-kicking heels and was set. On the third note: I didn't get a date. There was this one boy who I thought would work but didn't thanks to money issues.



But hey don't feel sorry for me. I went stag and against popular belief I had the best time ever! Unlike with my junior my senior was held at a downtown nightclub with a red carpet theme that made me feel like a queen, even though I didn't actually run for or win prom queen.



I felt so good that at one point I just sat outside in the club's courtyard looking up at the sky and thanking the lord for my life. Unfortunately that night had to end at some point and I ended up walking to the car with a goodie bag in one hand and my heels in the other. The next day my nail polish was chipped and my hear felt like it could shatter from the amount of old hair spray in it but it was all worth it. Looking back I can find no flaw in my senior prom, it truly was magical.





Gif's courtesy of:

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