See Ivy wince. See Ivy decide first person is a very nice perspective indeed.

So I was asked to prom. Again. As a standby. Again. It might even have been flattering if I'd actully spoken to either of the people within the last six months, but no. I'll forbear to yap about this, but it does bother me somewhat.

For reasons unbeknownst to myself, I will be heading off the that silk-draped mess next weekend. If nothing else, it'll be a cultural experience. Or something. As long as I have a camera, I should fit right into my proper place.

I even have a dress. Go me. And shoes. Ooh. The whole ensemble cost less than twenty-five dollars, which is entirely all right by me.

Now, if only I knew what I plan to do at the dance. Maybe its better not to think about it. Hundreds of teenagers in a confined area, complete with flashing lights and saccharine pop music. Eek.

Adieu.