Doing The Swim At Prom

Am NOT fat, MaRISSa! Besides the cracking came from the other side, right after MaREESa and her nerdy date got on it. I know Josh said  Justin was the one who heard it first, but really I did. I was like, "Oh my God, Jason, this dock is like freaking breaking." I mean, I was like actually THERE, Marissa, okay? So go ahead, complain about your broken strap all night long some more. At least you don't have like Lake Oconomowoc plankton all over your dress. And who gets their prom pictures taken on a stupid flimsy dock at Lake Oconomowoc anyway? Stacey's backyard is much nicer, and she didn't even get wet. Bitch. But no, we had to go all the way out to Lake Oconomowoc just because LaRISSa was like, "Oh, it's so pretty, it'll be so romantic and my mom knows this really great photographer." Total skeeve, btw. I bet Larissa's mom's separated husband, who isn't even really Larissa's dad, you know, I bet he doesn't know about the photographer. I wouldn't be caught dead across a big lake from his dark room. And Josh is such a BSer. First of all, all the guys were NOT just laughing. You should have heard Jordan squealing like a ninth grader: "I can't swim, I can't swim!" I was like, even with my dress soaking wet, I was like, "Dude, it's like a foot of water. You actually don't have to swim." And I did NOT spend all week getting ready. Just like four days. Well, five if you count my chin job, which wasn't really just for prom, actually. Besides, I blame it all on Jonah. Did you look closely at the picture? He doesn't have a date. There's like one more guy than girls. Yeah, trust me, Marissa, I know that's your idea of a party, but really, what was he doing there? I know Clarissa is technically in our class still, and yes, I know "she would have wanted it this way," and all, but what is it, like, two and a half years since she's been in that coma? You think Jonah might move it along a little and maybe go to prom with somebody else instead of showing up in a stupid tux alone and "reminding you all" that Clarissa's here "in spirit." Bumming us all out actually. Take him off that stupid dock and I bet it doesn't crack up and get at least some us--can you believe LISSA, she never suffers, anything; being right there and not getting a drop on her dress, which, btw, no one's supposed to know this, but her mother and her actually flew to New York like six weeks ago and had that dress like custom made for her, and her date, you know, Jonathan (yeah, me too, I'm like, hello!) he's like an engineering major at Northwestern or something, he could have easily rigged that dock to break up like it did actually, don't put it past Lissa you know--wet!

Not Ready For Prom Time?

Bless ye, oh ye of little knowledge of the commercial world. With the mercury dipping, the flakes flying, and all the secular "Happy Holidays" (w)assailing ye, ye think it's the Christmas season? How so last month of ye. We in retail, the nexus of the American Way of "what have you bought from me lately" Life, while still going through the motions of Happy Holidaying and "would you like that gift-wrapped" and listening to Vince Guaraldi's melancholy "Christmas Time Is Here" for like the millionth time, are already diving into a new cycle of "buy this." You see, in addition to wading through deliveries of kids' Valentine's Day books, today I opened up a box of not one but two (of the half dozen to come, probably tomorrow) special edition Prom magazines. I'm expecting the first crop of fantasy baseball `10 mags Friday, graduation trinkets next week, and back-to-school items by the first. Of January.

Before I can even take ten minutes to push back the holiday retail madness and bask in a few seconds of my own `tis the seasonness, I've got stacks of Seventeen Presents Prom! to deal with. On shelves already overloaded with far too many holiday craft and cooking rags, now I've gotta make room for smiling teens in shoulderless gowns while I'm personally wearing about 17 layers of shirts. Buy for today, buy for tomorrow, and while you're at it, buy for six months from now. Like some tired poor parent, whose credit card is already smoking, needs his or her teen daughter whining in the long checkout line, "Mmmmoooooooooommmmmmm, I neeeeeed this magazine!" It's December 16th, folks, springtime! Get with the program.

Enough. It disgusts me. I'm going out to the garage to work on my golf swing.

Fountains of Wayne-Prom Theme