I am not a party person.
No, really, ask anyone. I was that kid who regularly avoided mixers in middle school after attending the first dull, sweaty few in the seventh grade.
But this, this is different.
This is Homecoming. We’ve heard about it our whole lives, whether from older siblings or from those Disney Channel movies we used to watch. It’s one of the most anticipated things during your high school career, along with Prom, getting your drivers license, and, well, graduating.
So naturally, my friends and I started planning weeks in advance. Our group grew and shrank but eventually it landed on a well rounded 19 members, eight couples plus a few strays.
Then it was the question of dinner. Should we go to a restaurant? If so, Figlio or Cinzetti’s? Or should we all cook dinner at someone’s house? We ended up compromising and, not wanting to destroy someone’s kitchen, decided on a catered dinner from Nick and Jake’s at one of our friend’s houses.
The dress. I thought it would take hours and hours of fruitless dressing room struggles to find the perfect dress for the night, but I was lucky. I found mine at the second store I went to, Windsor. I went in looking for something one-shouldered, preferably purple. But I left with something entirely different. Picture this: pink silk under black mesh with tons (and I mean TONS) of sparkles. More fairy princess than Academy Award winner, but I loved it nonetheless.
We met for pictures around six. We did couple pictures first then took a variety of group shots (girls, guys, elementary schools, etc.). After a good 45 minutes (resulting in some very sore faces), we sat down to dinner. The evening was filled with many toasts to Dumbledore and Snape and even more pictures before we left for the dance at 8:30.
We stayed at East for a little over an hour, just enough time to see the King and his court crowned (congratulations Grant and Emily!), and then walked to a friend’s house to hang out.
After those long, repetitive middle school mixers, I didn’t expect to ever find myself at another school dance. But Saturday night changed my mind and I see many more nights filled with fist pumping and bernie-ing in my future.
My first real high school dance. A night to remember.