Dear Dotty,

I'm a senior in high school. My whole high school career has been pretty uneventful in the dude department. I don't date. I don't get asked out on dates. I can't talk to boys without getting all red in the face or stuttering. One time a boy talked to me and I ended up having a conversation with my shoes. I knew that if I had looked him in the face I would have barfed all over his preppy Gap sweater. Obviously you get how socially awkward I am when it comes to boys. Imagine to my surprise when my one and only male friend (whom I thought was gay), asked me to Prom. Yeah, you read that right P-R-O-M. That thing with the dancing and the dresses and the limos. Yeah, that Prom. I dance...but in the privacy of my bedroom and usually to the old Nsync Cd's. I have dresses but they are all greatly lacking in taffeta, ruffles and corsages. My version of a limo is a beat up pickup truck with rust spots and a pair of dice in the mirrior. I told him I would go, but only because I didn't know how to say no. So now I'm stuck. I have to go to Prom with this highly feminine guy, wear sequins and sway back and forth to cheesy music. In reality I would rather go to Target in my pajamas, consume approximately 4 bean burritos from the Taco Truck and watch Phineas and Ferb. What should I do? I would feel like a complete idiot for cancelling, but I would rather get my wisdom teeth pulled out than go.
Love,
Anti-Prom

Wow. They still do taffeta? That is tragic. I'm getting flashbacks to my Senior year in High School and I hate you for that. I wish I could insert some amazing story about me being some hot little number in High School. I would be the girl who goes through boyfriends like poop through a goose. There are a couple of problems with that story though. A) No one would even believe me for a second and B) that would be a total lie. Then I would feel guilty about lying. Then I would self medicate with Ben and Jerry's, Oreos, Cheetos and every other type of lard producing food. I guess from now on I'm on a quest to only tell the truth. We will see how long it lasts. We are actually very similar in a lot of ways. Man, I'm already regretting this whole truth pact thing. I just admitted to myself and all who read this that I'm like the girl who wears headgear (it's an assumption), barfs at the sight of boys and plays Pokemon (another assumption. Alright, alright...that was rude. I wasn't really serious. Truth be told (there I go again...being all honest Abe), I hated the idea of Prom. Notice I said idea. I didn't actually go to Prom. Instead I played Scrabble (against myself...my opponent didn't stand a chance) and had a Doris Day movie marathon. All while wearing my hair in pig tails, retainers and a pajama shirt exclaiming "I Pooped Today!" Sadly, my 18 year old self was in heaven. I had no desire to go and witness the bumping, grinding and raging of hormones. Then again... I didn't get asked. If I had, then I probably would have gone and stuck it out. I probably would have been beyond excited that someone actually wanted to go with me. Think of it as a way to end your High School career with a bang. So what if your dancing looks a lot like you're having a seizure? So what if your date might be swingin' for the other team? So what if you end up spending the whole night by the punch table (just don't actually drink the punch...who knows what sort of liquid courage has been put in there). It only lasts a few hours. It could fail tragically or be totally rad. At the end you can have your sweet prince(ss) drive you home and be done with it. Save Target and Fungus and Phlegm ( I have no idea what the name of it really is, but I'm assuming it is a cartoon) for the next day. So be brave my young friend. Wear that corsage with pride. Stay classy.
Dotty Mae
P.S. Notice I left out the Taco Truck. I'm sorry, but if your "restaurant" picks up and moves from one garbage dump to the next then I'm not going to eat there.