Writer, editor, professor, etc. For more information, see jaygabler.com.
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Look at that fucking hipster.
The only photo of me with my (peach-dress-wearing, coordinated-with-my-handkerchief) actual prom date is a blurry shot by my mom, who came to the grand march against my wishes and surprised me by popping out of the crowd with a camera. After prom, Jeneen and I went back to the hotel room we were sharing with the Homecoming queen (there were only 49 people in my entire grade, so don’t start thinking I was that cool) and her boyfriend. My then-crush and some of her girlfriends had skipped prom as conscientious objectors, and by the time we got back to the hotel my crush was passed out on the bathroom floor next to a tub full of alcohol. The Homecoming queen and her boyfriend went on to have a kid, get married, have two more kids, then get divorced. He lives in my neighborhood now; when I discovered that, I thought maybe we could hang out, but the one time we met up, we didn’t end up having much to say to each other. We just sat there quietly on his porch, drinking beer until his psychologist girlfriend arrived.
So basically, the Forever Young prom is already an improvement.
Reblogged from mplscollective with 10 notes | Permalink
Look at that fucking hipster. The only photo of me with my (peach-dress-wearing, coordinated-with-my-handkerchief)...