Romeo Slippers

My brother called me a loser once. He has not once said he said, like a million times, spraying spittle on my face every time he opened his mouth. It was after I told him I was not going to my Junior Prom. I could not blame him for being so frustrated with me. After all, two of my brothers are normal, friendly human beings ... not weird like me. So why did not I just want to go to a ball where all the girls in my class was trembling with excitement at the idea?

1) Dressing up is not exactly my idea of a good time. tight dresses make me want to hyperventilate. It's like going back to the 16th century and after getting strangled by your own clothes. Besides, I have this strange tendency travel on almost everything: the stairs, banana peels, my own feet and yes ... train all unfortunate dress I would wear to the prom. I was - and still am-a clumsy elephant.

2) Make-up makes me sick. I'm probably the only daughter of the student population while at present that can not tell the difference between eyeliner and mascara. I do not know how to put lipstick by me or polish my fingernails clean. When it comes to makeup, I'm an alien from an alternate dimension ... and a clueless there. Can someone tell me what a curl eyelashes (at least I think I have the right spelling) is it used? And the highlight of files you want to do something with it besides breaking the doors open?

3) I am a walking disaster in high heels. Imagine an elephant acrobatics. That's me wearing high heels. Imagine an elephant wearing a dress and acrobatics. It's me tripping over my dress ball and landing-SMACK-on the ground. Ow ... that really hurts!

So there I was: the anti-prom, sitting at the computer as I tried to ignore stubbornly nagging my brother (is a guy but a lot of nagging. Usually the jumping kind). I wish I had said I had a revelation: the heavens opened and a loud voice said, "Go to the prom! It will be interesting to you! "But that only happens in the Bible, or books that read like the Bible. Anyway, what really happened is that my my sister and another brother entered the room and started to harass me too. So there I was: the only anti-prom facing my three brothers and sisters ball-magnet, one of whom had not even been to prom (but she was convinced she would be a great experience). What could I do? I have not had a chance. The next day I submitted my surrender. I told my sister I went to the prom. And you know what, it felt so good to say, as I wanted something new for once in my life.

The dress was not really a big problem. I had this pink dress that I had never worn since the marriage of my aunt a few years ago. It was basically just a tube top and skirt and I knew I should not difficult to wear. My shoes are these three-inch white slippers that I had learned to walk in the marriage even though tripping on my dress a few times. They were the kind of slippers that Cinderella would not hurt to leave the ball, if it was the type of trigger. My mother bought this light pink floral print shawl for me to wear my robe to cover the deformity was embarrassing that my shoulders.

She also took the trouble to set me an appointment with her stylist, who would be my style of hair and put on my makeup for prom. My mother even took time to get to the mall for some last minute items: jewelry, hair accessories and a bag that people call a clutch for the singular reason that it is really small and used only in parties official. I think this is actually very high in my experience Prom: spending time with my mother when we went shopping. For the first time, I felt very happy and excited to go to the prom. I.