Sour Grapes

I'm supposed to be setting up for prom right now. I just had to be in Junior Class Cabinet, didn't I? Luckily I'm free-spirited enough to ditch out for a while and post.

Honestly, I hope it all falls apart, and not just so the girls who have based their entire existence on the perfection of this one night have emotional breakdowns. It may just be because, due to poor timing and lack of nerve, I am going stag (read: loooooosssser), and am therefore prejudiced against all those who have succesfully "coupled." But it may be because this prom just seems so ready to fail.

Everything is so precariously balanced, ready to fall apart at the slightest provocation. The arches are buckling due to overuse of duct tape, and the big moon sways like a skyscraper in a typhoon. Our theme, by the way, is "By The Light Of The Moon," which explains why acres of extremely flammable-looking tissue paper, covered in stars, have been stretched over every available surface. If someone lights up in the gym, this whole thing could get very "Carrie" very quickly.

Next year's prom theme:

• Stalingrad, 1944 (mortar craters, war sound effects, bleeding sophs strewn about)
• Star Wars/Star Trek (same difference)
• Inside A Whale (cover the gym in pink tissue paper, perfume with buckets of rotting fish)
• The Making Of Prom (order generic prom props, set them up halfway, leave the lights on)
• Mad Max (two words: Assless chaps)