Saturday, May 8, 2010

Apparently horses don't like to be named. Except for ponies. They dig that crap.

So I went to prom, but not at my school. Which is weird. Because I'm about the last person on earth who would ever go to a prom. I'm so anti-prom, it's insane. And surprisingly, there was no disaster. I did not die. The world did not collapse. Even the heels of death that I had to wear didn't kill me. (I had to wear heels. The guy I went with is related to skyscrapers, I'm pretty positive.)

My "prom group" ate at this fancy Italian restaurant, and no one could remember its name, but they thought it was something like Biotch-y's. Which sounded both delicious and family friendly. P.S. It was Biaggi's. Whatever, you'll always be Biotch-y's to me, Biaggi's.

Anyway, while we were there, this friendly waitress informed me that she graduated from East High, and oh my goodness MEGAN DON'T YOU LOVE EAST?? And I was all "oh...yay...go leopards." and she got sort of excited. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I hate high school with the flaming heat of a thousand passionate suns. So instead I just thought of kickboxing flamingos, because that always makes me smile, and she seemed to think I was just reflecting on my grand and happy time at East. Good to know I enriched a life. I bet she wishes she were me. Probably, anyway. Except maybe not because I was wearing death trap heels, and if I were someone else, I would be all "NUH UH NOT WORTH IT."

And then I didn't get to try on scuba diving equipment. But whatever, it's not like I even care.
(I so you have scuba diving equipment? Can I borrow it?)


Prom was located at the Utah State Capitol and no one tried to arrest me. Either they didn't recognize me as that girl who once tried to be the Supreme Dictator of the State of Utah, or they were instructed to let me run amok because of my Jedi abilities.  For some reason.

Rich the news man was not there. He must have been busy.

When we first arrived, the Utah State Capitol Official High School Representative Administrator Woman told my date, Tyler, to spit out his gum, and we had a really long, really awkward conversation about it. And she kept looking at him expectantly, and Tyler was all "um I'll spit it out later." Well good 'ol USCOHSRA Woman wasn't down with that, and she kept doing that horrible adult thing and said "Oh but look at your lovely date! She's so lovely and beautiful! Your gum is making her look bad!" And I almost laughed, but I didn't so don't worry. I do have some self control. Also, when I get into awkward situations, I like to imagine that I'm captain of a pirate boat deciding which of my companions is disposable and should therefore walk the plank, because I have limited funds and the failing economy is really hitting me badly, and if I ever want to upgrade to a ship, I need to kill off a few of the mateys I have to split my pirate booty with. It keeps my mind off of the general "Well this is a terrible situation"-ness of things.

I wasn't even the clumsiest one at the dance. Tyler spilled water from the water jug all over the table and floor, and then he walked away, and we both watched as the teachers cleaned up his mess. He looked guilty. I looked worried. Why? Because! All the supervision was busy dealing with a water jug crisis! ANYTHING COULD HAVE HAPPENED WHILE THEY WERE MOPPING UP. People could have died, you guys. You can imagine what it was like.

Teenage horde:
Let's behave!
Adult: OH MY GOODNESS LOOK AT THAT WATER SPILL! Quick, Angela, you get a towel, I'll turn off the water flow, and George, you go make sure there's still peanut brittle left in the kitchen, because I'm hungry. The rest of you stand and watch the water jug. ADULT SUPERVISION SQUAD, BREAK!
Teenage horde: Let's dance provocatively!
Adult: It's not drying, for Pete's sake! IT'S JUST NOT DRYING! Somebody get a mop and a hairdryer!
Teenage horde: Let's chew gum loudly!
Adult: It's like the gosh darn Titanic in here!
Teenage Horde: We're going to eat too many cookies and drink too many Redbulls!

And by the time the adults realized what was going on, it was too late and all those kids were NEVER going to fall asleep and would be really grumpy the next morning, and it was all Tyler's fault.

Pretty much the most "Megan is socially unacceptable" part of the night was when I fell asleep at the after-activity, which was supposed to be a movie night, and started crying when my buddy pals tried to wake me up. It went a little something like this.

Austin(not my date):
Megan, what movie do you want to watch?
Austin: She's sleeping. (Pokes me) Hey...time for school.
Me: (Whimper) Noooo shhh.
Austin: (giggle giggle) WAKE UP!
Me: (sit up, tears running down my face) STOP! I'M NOT GOING! (sob, fall back asleep)
Tyler (is my date):...poke her again.

And that's pretty much verbatim.

But I haven't even gotten into the best part.

Before any of this, something ridiculous happened. I rode a horse. And I was terrified. I rode TWO horses. Not at the same time, although that would have been awesome. But both horses tried to kill me. Not kidding, they started running around like maniacs the second I got on. And it was only for me, no one else was almost horse-mauled. Everyone laughed because apparently my fear noise sounds like dying horses. My friends are awesome. If I had a camera, I could show you guys pictures. Instead, I'll have to wait for my buddy pals to send me pictures.

So the first horse was short-ish and I only sort of had to hobbit-scramble onto it. I named it Crazy Killerpants Hitler, because it was horrible. And the horse trainer woman kept yelling "Don't pull the reins back so far, it needs head room!" and I was like...YEAH RIGHT. Because if it had head room, it would twist its head around and kill me with its mouth. And um, yeah, I'm not going to die of horse mouth, thank you very much, horse trainer woman. Then I got off and cried a little, because Crazy Killerpants Hitler wanted me dead. For real, guys. I could smell it. She kept randomly shaking her head so hard I though I was going to fly off and get trampled into the mud. Mud that was covered in horse excrement. Which is 3rd on my list of "Horrible Ways to Die" right after watching a 34 hour marathon of the Hills and eating melted cheese until exploding.

So then the horse woman was all "oh try this horse, she's the one we let little kids ride!" Really? They let the kids ride her? Because she was horrible, WAY worse than before. And I knew, because that wasn't my first rodeo. My first rodeo was approximately five minutes before that, and Crazy Killerpants Hitler taught me enough about horses to last me for forever and three years on the side. But because I'm brave, I decided to give it a shot. So I mounted a calm looking brown horse with a name that had to do with flowers. I think. It could have been more related to nuclear warfare. I confuse the two a lot. So anyways, I'm just trotting along on flower nuclear warfare horse, when the horse is all "I HAVE THE SUDDEN DESIRE TO KILL THE SMALL TERRIFIED CHICK IN MY SADDLE. LET'S DO THIS." and suddenly she's running towards a gate and a tree and I gave out some kind of unintelligible siren scream. And horse woman is all "PULL BACK ON THE REINS!" and I'm all "YOU SHOULDN'T LET KIDS RIDE THIS THING!" and I took back the name I had been considering calling her (Sunnny Sparkles Supreme) and instead her name is Deathray Julius.

I hate horses so much. Unless I'm not riding them. Then I just dislike them immensely. Except for the baby pony that I saw. It kept trying to eat my sleeve. He's called Webster Adorable.