Losing My Religion

I am now looking back and very slowly realizing that I didn’t really care much about PROM. But I have accepted that it’s okay that I didn’t.  The reasons why I didn’t wasn’t clear at that time. The proof that I didn’t have the slightest inclination towards having a picture-perfect experience of a night full of dancing and possibly making-out is the fact that I went out and look for a partner a week before it.

I didn’t have guy friends that were single at that time, they were already taken by my…well..my friends. And really, at that time I didn’t feel the need to conform to the standards of the girl-world. I am a 4th year student who’s part of the school band. I play the lyre, by the way. And I am graduating soon. Imagine the possibilities or the fact that there may be none at that point. It’s Senior Year. For me it was another rite of passage that I need to go through because everyone has to go to PROM because it’s “Senior’s Night” and high school for you will be irrelevant if you were not part of it. Plus, it’s part of the tuition fee you’d be paying so why put good money to waste? And it’s my parent’s money at that time too!

Prior to that week though, I already have my dress, my shoes and well, I’m have pretty-much prepared for it except for the fact that I had no one in mind (and heart) to ask. I know it was ridiculous—to have been prepared and not having thought of who to take. It’s like going out of a country without a passport or getting into a surgery without the surgeon. W

My partner, whom I just met a week before the said event was the cousin of one of my friends. He was a year younger than I am and the only reason why he obliged is 1.)  because his cousin was my friend and  2.) yes, it’s a free pass to get to enter the world of an all-girls-school.

He wasn’t that bad I thought, except later you’d see how it will turn out.

Prom Night. Everyone was pretty excited. I felt so-so like it will just be one of the family gatherings where you have to pay attention to your Aunt’s stories, nod on cue, laugh at the appropriate timing, eat your cake and compliment your relative’s cooking.  Easy-breezy, I thought. No pressure. I felt good because I think at that time I look good. My partner is just a ticket for me to actually go. No date, no entry. Although the sign did not exist at the entrance, it was pretty obvious that it should have been posted for all of us to realize that really, it will take two to tango…

Proper introductions was done to the whole PROM committee, the batch President, the Prom Moderator and the entire nunnery.

Seats-check. I was seated with my friends of course ( where the prom king and queen) were seated.We were near the stage because two of my friends were the hosts too.

My only concern is it’s a wide open space and the chances of precipitation was somewhat high. My other concern was the food. I need to get my money’s worth. At this point you’d see how much I didn’t even notice what my partner was wearing, how does he look like. Okay, this is what I have remembered. He was wearing a suit. I didn’t remember the color of the tie.  I did not remember if we danced because I think for most part of the PROM he was frolicking the school grounds.

The music, I forgot to tell you about the music. The pop tunes of our time were played until right before the whole slow dance they played  R.E.M.’s Losing my Religion. And the whole song, got stuck to my head.

In one of the slow dances in which at that time, my partner is still M.I.A, my friend asked me to dance. He’s the boyfriend of my other friend – who might have taken a shot of pity slash sympathy. I thought it was sweet and he had earned some points from me.

Before the night ended, it rained. I was right. My boobs predicted the weather. Okay, bad Mean Girls reference. I wasn’t even finished eating my breaded pork. There was little victory left to celebrate on.  And since we’re in a catholic school exclusive for non-alcholic women, booze is OUT. Sad.

Final cut of the night. The whole picture-taking with your date is essential. At this point my missing cretin of a partner finally found his way back from Wonderland.

When it was our turn, I smiled and a posed like a good catholic school girl. When the photo was developed, I looked awesome, my partner on the other hand, was droopy-eyed and looked like he was on something very “illegal”.

Picture-perfect, didn’t I tell you? No expectations.  Most of us, attended the after-party which was held at the only club there is so everyone who’s anyone were actually there. I called the night early. I still have to take the night duty with my mom.  And PROM, the very first and last experience of it did feel like one of the family gatherings, except my Aunt wasn’t there to comment on how awesome my partner was and that I didn’t get a chance to finish dinner and comment “appropriately” or better yet gave a review to the caterer.

When I went home, my dad was surprised. It wasn’t 2.a.m. and I wasn’t drunk as hell. I was completely sober and I didn’t lose anything. He asked how it was and all I can muster was a smirk and said “It’s prom. BEST DAY EVER.”  We laughed.

Funny fact. My partner was one of his students. I would have asked him to flunk him but I wasn’t as sinister as I am now.


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