Living Happily Ever After

test123

Blog Articles

Proma Drama

“I get letters from all over, all sorts. It’s really cool. I get a lot from inmates, which is kind of scary. But the best was the guy who wanted to send me a plane ticket to fly me to his prom.” (Laura Prepon)

Prom (at our house) is 10 days away and the drama continues. In fact, it has resulted in modifications to the English language: Proma Drama (say it like it rhymes with drama). Although my husband coined the term, if it were in any dictionary you could find it defined as, “anything having to do with the events leading up to the high school ritual known as Prom.” Or something like that.

Date to prom? Check.

As reported earlier, my daughter was asked to prom. A boy she works with and goes to school with asked her. (The invitation itself caused drama, as I’ve mentioned earlier, because the boy asked my daughter and another girl at the school walked around school for days crying in the halls and all of her classes and told everyone it was because the boy she wanted to go to prom with asked my daughter!)

We live in Utah, where “creative dating” is practiced by teens, so the boy didn’t just ask my daughter in person or text or call with his invitation, he did it in a creative way. Late one night our doorbell rang, I opened the door to find no one there, looked down and there sat three goldfish swimming in a container with the message: “If wishes were fishes and I had three, I’d use them to ask, ‘Will you go to prom with me?’” (Cute, huh? They even came with fish food!)

Due to my daughter’s busy school, work and spring track schedule she didn’t have time to answer for a few days. In the meantime, everyone enjoyed the fish. And fed them. Until sadly, I don’t believe any were actually alive by the time the reply was delivered. Oops!

Prom dress? Check.

Believe it or not, we found it online—a far different prom dress shopping experience than mine were in the 1980s. I never actually did find one that was “perfect,” which resulted in my mom designing and sewing me the perfect dress for prom my junior year (she was a fabulous seamstress, as good as any professional anywhere)—and then flying to another state the following year in quest of the perfect prom dress so she wouldn’t have to EVER sew another one!

Referencing prom throughout the days and weeks leading up to it? Check.

For example, my daughter’s birthday came a few weeks after the “fishy” prom invitation. Her birthday incorporated a bit of Proma Drama when her best friend sent her a beautiful bouquet of roses with two wishes: “Happy Birthday! I hope these flowers live longer than the fish did!” (For the record, the flowers are still thriving and looking beautiful.)

And then the moment came when my daughter’s date had to be told what color her dress is so their attire could be coordinated.

Stay tuned.

Oh. And speaking of dresses: “Some women hold up dresses that are so ugly and they always say the same thing: ‘This looks much better on.’ On what? On fire?” (Rita Rudner)

An Aside: Not So Bad

Bachelor #1 suggested we go to a Halloween party/dance and that we go as a “couple” in matching costumes. His idea? He dress as Clark Kent, and I go as Lois Lane. Lois Lane?

Although I have one sister who lives Halloween practically all year long, and my other sister is an artist and creates amazing new costumes every year, I’ve never been that way. I’m not super creative when it comes to Halloween. I wasn’t even as a kid. I preferred to be a witch or a gypsy, something easy, and I was fine with that. It worked for me. Didn’t require a lot of thought or advance planning, and I’ve always liked the color black. (It worked so well, I even won a costume contest at my church halloween party in high school: “Sexiest Witch” or something like that–I didn’t even know churches gave awards in that category. However, I missed experiencing it in person, because I left in the middle of the party to go to a haunted house with a boy. When we returned to the party, I was surprised when my mom handed me my prize!)

Since I was living a very unexpected life, and a single life anyway, I agreed to be Lois Lane. I was living totally out of my comfort zone every minute of every day as it was. What was a mere Halloween challenge? But how to be Lois Lane? I didn’t have a clue.

Thanks goodness I work in marketing, with clever and creative younger men. I showed up at work one day, told them my dilemma, and within minutes not only had they googled Lois Lane and told me what to wear, they’d printed off some sample pictures I could copy my look from! (If I haven’t said it enough, I absolutely love the men I work with.)

So I was off to transform myself into Lois Lane. It was quite a change from my usual as Lois Lane had dark hair. So I found a dark wig and prepared other Lois Lane essentials…but first, had to be in charge of my congregation’s trunk or treat Halloween party–after working in another city all day. (Halloween 2009 was my most hectic, to say the least!)

I worked all day, drove home from work, helped round up my children and their costumes, my trunk or treat candy, my food assignments for the church party dinner, and headed to the church an hour early to decorate and get it ready. I did the church party for two hours and left at 8 p.m. to transform myself into Lois Lane. In the middle of my costume preparations, I had to run pick up my daughter from dance rehearsal so she could babysit for me. It was 25 minutes, roundtrip, I wasn’t completely transformed yet, and Bachelor #1 was due to arrive in 30 minutes. Racing to the dance studio, I hit road construction. (More delays.)

My heart and my mind were racing. (Like I said, I had a lot going on that night.) Finally, I was almost there. One last stoplight to wait through and I’d be at the dance studio, picking up my daughter, and heading home. The light turned green, I drove through the intersection, and the next thing I knew the lights of a policeman were flashing in my rear-view mirror. I couldn’t figure out who he was after, so I pulled over to get out of the way. To my surprise, he pulled up behind me and came to my car.

He asked if I knew why he had pulled me over.

I was stunned. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized he was after me! Oops.

I said I honestly had no idea. He told me I was driving without my lights on. WHAT? I felt like the biggest idiot. I’ve never been that technologically talented, or very good with cars, but I did think I knew how to turn the lights on. And according to my understanding of the car I’d been driving for the past few months, the lights were on. I tried to explain that to the policeman. He had me turn the lights on, I thought I was turning the lights on, then he would check the front of my car and tell me they weren’t on. (Can you imagine what an intelligent blonde he would have thought I was? Thank goodness I was wearing a dark wig! lol)

I was embarrassed and felt quite dumb. I explained I was newly single, and clueless about cars, and would he mind showing me how to turn the lights on in my car? (Wasn’t that lovely to have to ask when you’ve been driving and turning car lights on for 26 years without a problem–until you get divorced?) He laughed, fiddled around with the light switches and finally said, “Actually, I think BOTH of your light bulbs must be burned out, because I think your lights ARE on.” Whew. What a relief to know I had known how to turn my car lights on!

He then told me he’d pulled me over for another reason too. He said I’d sat through a very long red light, and then simply drove through the intersection when the green turn arrow turned green! A giant oops. I’d had no idea I’d done that. My mind must have been elsewhere–like on all of the things I had to rush to finish before “Superman” arrived. And there I sat feeling like an even bigger idiot in my Halloween costume–dressed as Lois Lane. I wondered what the cop was thinking. I soon found out.

He asked for my license and registration. I was getting a ticket. But as soon as I reached for my license and registration, I knew I was getting a lot more than that. I was pretty sure I was heading to jail!

It was a new car (to me), with temporary tags, so I had no registration yet. I didn’t remember that until the cop asked for it. I explained that situation–about buying the car in Colorado, moving to Utah, the paperwork getting delayed in Colorado, so Utah couldn’t issue my license plates yet, etc… He let that go, and asked, again, to see my driver’s license. I reached for my purse to get my driver’s license. And discovered in my rush, in the hectic frenzy of the night, I’d left the house without it. The cop told me he could look it up. But that’s when I realized I had another problem: as I’d recently moved to Utah, I hadn’t changed my Colorado driver’s license to Utah yet! I asked if he could look up a license in another state–Colorado–and explained that whole situation to the policeman. I’m not sure what he was thinking as he looked at me. I couldn’t tell if he was trying not to laugh or if he was reaching for the handcuffs. Thankfully, instead he looked at me, shook his head, and said, “Tell me, do you at least have insurance on your car?”

Finally, a question I could answer with proof! I was mortified that I was looking so incapable and incompetent (and stupid) but I handed the insurance card over to the cop and he walked away. I sat there in the dark, in a panic, that not only was I totally late and looking like a lunatic, but that I was going to get a ticket and would never be able to afford car insurance after that! I started feeling bleak indeed. Waiting that terrible wait (although thanks to the unexpected events of 2009, waiting for the ticket verdict wasn’t as terrible as it could have been as I’d had a few perspective-altering experiences much larger than that in 2009, but I was panicked about the cost of a ticket and the impact it would have on my insurance rates) I started feeling a bit bad for myself. I was doing all I could to support my family and be a good employee, I was serving my church, I was trying to get everyone to everything all by myself (and that night have a little fun myself) and now this. A traffic ticket as my reward.

The policeman returned to my car, smiled, told me to be careful and have a safe night. No ticket. I was one fortunate (and blessed) single mom that night.

I drove carefully away, in the dark, without headlights, picked up my daughter, finally got home and amazingly was ready just in time for Clark Kent!

We had a great time that Halloween. But what I remember most about that night was that I was starting to see my new and unexpected life was…not so bad.

Bookmark and Share