OK, so do you remember how I wrote a entry about hating school dances a while back? Well…I kind of went to one. OK, I really did. BUT MY FRIENDS MADE ME! But I didn’t argue too much. BUT I WANTED TO! But I didn’t. BUT I DIDN’T HAVE FUN!

It was a five-school eighth-grade dance (Little Rhody schools are small). Most girls wore shorts or miniskirts. I was way overdressed in a black lacy dress with a corset top. It was almost impossible to walk in it. I wore Docs for a tiny shred of comfort.

Right before we left, my friend’s sister called me a “little emo artsy kid.” When I got to the dance, someone asked me, “Are you emo or scene now?” Ugh. (No offense to those who really do consider themselves “emo” or “scene.” It’s just that I was wearing a vintage prom dress and I didn’t look “emo” at all. Did I?)

Guess which one is me.

The music was blasting in my ears and I couldn’t hear a thing except for UNCE UNCE UNCE UNCE WUMP WUMP WUMP. The music was loud and terrible and they turned up the bass too much. I tried to request a bunch of songs and the DJ hadn’t even heard of them. He was all, “NOBODY KNOWS WHAT THE PIXIES ARE!” and I was like “UM YES THEY ARE VERY POPULAR!” I gave him my phone to plug in, and he finally played “Is She Weird.” For some reason, nobody screamed when it came on. And nobody danced. I was singing along and trying to get my circle into it (every dance is composed of small dance circles—you know what I mean) but they were sort of embarrassed to be seen with me. Wow, people.

After the dance, I had to hear all my friends talking about how one of them kissed her boyfriend for the first time. She said it was OK, but not great. No big deal. And that he’s sort of boring and lacking in personality. I’m good friends with the guy in question, so I was a little offended. It was his first kiss, and she is his first girlfriend, and the whole thing means a lot to him. It doesn’t seem to mean as much to her. It makes me sort of sad.

I also found out at the dance that my neighbor is going to ask me out. Well, there goes one friend. Rejection = awkwardness forever. Date, then break up = awkwardness forever. This sucks. If I hadn’t gone to the dance maybe I wouldn’t have found out until it happened. But now I have to think about it whenever I’m with him.

It could have been worse, I guess. It wasn’t terrible. But it was pretty bad, and I feel like an idiot for going. I can’t believe I let anyone talk me into it. It was just a giant disappointment and I feel really stupid for not going with my instincts and staying home. Blah. ♦