More Prom

Last night, as I was editing prom pictures, eating grapes, creating graduation announcements, and talking on the phone...I realized one of those things needed to be eliminated from the equation in order to be more productive.  

I quit eating grapes.  

I kid.  

I quit talking on the phone.  Talking while tweaking the placement of every last letter on an announcement is not the best use of time.  

I kept eating grapes and spent my whole night in front of the computer working with pictures.

Then suddenly, in the middle of editing a picture of Sister Pister and her prom date Mr. Basketball, I got the giggles.  Actually started laughing out loud in my office by myself.  Because I remembered the two little first graders who were the homecoming court's little prince and princess my senior year of high school.  And now I was looking at them as juniors in high school, essentially grown up.  It's crazy how fast time goes!  At least now they are okay with standing right next to each other.  

Turns out two goofy little first graders can grow up to be two put together teenagers.  But don't let that acting normal appearance from above fool you though.  They are still just as ridiculous.  And I feel like it's the epitome of small town school-ness that these pictures are even possible.  Have I mentioned before that I love small town school-ness? 

Now that I'm done with that little sidetracked moment...back to the beginning of the day.  A redneck start with snow on the ground still, a KFC in the background, boots, and a plaid shirt.  Yeeeee-haw!!

I don't believe in wearing appropriate footwear for the conditions; my feet are thinking it's warm.  They just are.

It's a yearly tradition for Momma Debi, Sister Pister, Miss Hair, and myself to have a fun time together during the prom up-do creating.  Usually it consists of Sister Pister and I doing some crazy little skit type thing with Momma Debi adding in her little one liners and shaking her head at the two daughters she has raised.  This year, I had that 9 mile run looming ahead of me which means my nervous talk talk talk talk talk habit added to the mix.  All the while that's going on, Miss Hair works her magic while wearing a fabulous scissor bracelet...I had jewelry envy.  Mmmmhhmmmm.  At the end of the whole shebang, Sister Pister never leaves the chair disappointed.

As I said before, I ended up doing her makeup at my house.  She was a bit scared.  I told my sister I had put on my "I can do anything with some direction" cape and to just close her eyes and tip her head up and it would be just fine.  

Now...insert the big run here.  Maybe sometime I'll figure out how to capture some of that ridiculousness on camera.

And...insert drinking chocolate milk and eating cottage cheese to get some protein in the body  while rushing around my house to grab my camera and gear.  No pictures of that either...that'd be weird.   

Back up to speed...my sister is never embarrassed of me.  How could she be when I come cruising up sweaty and smelly wearing rolled up jeans and a sweatshirt with my hair all a mess and then proceed to jump in the vehicle and squeeze my way into the backseat with her, the date, and the friends?  I mean really.  Me?  Embarrassing?  Not even when I yell to strangers and star-jack down the street does she get embarrassed.  And not even when I'm crouched on a ledge in a train station window pretending to act fierce does she get embarrassed.  That's love I tell you.  Now, her friends?  I think they might have been a tad uncomfortable when I asked a man at that train station to move three times because he was in the shot.  Three times.  I don't think that's excessive for a nice man who is just waiting for his train.  I said please and thank you and told him he got a gold star for the day.

Okay, so I might be embarrassing.

But I figure since they all get fun pictures of their prom experience that we can just call it a wash.  An even trade.

When in a train station...in prom dresses...why not read some magazines?

So, after looking through these pictures yet again, I have made the decision that you can totally tell these two are the youngest in their families and that they both have "older" siblings.  Well, Mr. Basketball's siblings are not quite as old as Brother and I, but they are still in their twenties.  Anyway, here's why I made that decision.  These two both have a funny way of simply being who they are and are completely comfortable acting a fool {or fierce}.  I think their ability to "let go" comes from knowing their "old" siblings somehow all managed to come out of adolescence and find their way in the world.  And aren't the babies of families always attention clowns who like a stage?  Add to that being the extreme babies and you have yourself this... 

When in North Dakota...in April...in the winter that will never end...a dress must be held up and a stocking hat must be worn and a vehicle must be filthy.  It's extremely classy 'round these parts.  

Now...insert me becoming less embarrassing by actually showering and putting lip gloss on.  No pictures.  That'd be real weird.

Once at the prom, Sister Pister bossed me around and I took pictures of whatever she told me to take pictures of.  The junior class is in charge of planning the whole prom and Sister Pister is president of her class so she had to be the lead on the banquet the night before, the decorations, the DJ, the announcer, etc...  And well, that's a whole lot of planning and organizing.  Which makes me think her free spirited ways must indeed have a little bit of order in them.  Which makes my overly ordered self proud.

I stood back and let her tell me what to do.  Big step.  Big step people.  Except I did tell Mr. Basketball that he had to have a picture with his parents.  I mean c'mon.  You have to have a picture with your parents.  Other than that moment of bossy, I was laid back.  Two fist pumps and a star-jack for that!  I might even throw in a twirl and foot stomp! 

I had flash malfunctions during the actual grand march; I attribute this to never really using my big flash.  Sister Pister and Mr. Basketball were first down the runway so I didn't know the malfunctions would happen.  Look how lit up they are!  Pretend I planned that.

I was sitting cross legged on the floor next to my fellow crazy picture taking friend who is the mom to the girl in the hot pink dress.  In the midst of me feverishly pushing buttons and yelling under my breath, she captured a few of them where they don't look like they are walking towards the bright light.  Thanks fellow crazy picture taking friend for these!      

 

I had the flash issues figured out when her daughter made the trip down the runway so sitting on the floor in the middle of the gym wasn't a total loss.  Fellow crazy picture taking friend...I'll email you these.   :)

 
It was a completely filled to the brim fun day and I'm glad I can be here to experience memories with my sister.  She is growing up to be a fantastic person who I love dearly.  Even though she drives me batty sometimes, she also has a way of showing me through her actions that it's alright to let go and let happen.  I get to show her how to make lists, organize a closet, how to be not afraid to say anything in public...and she shows me that life will go on whether I control it or not, sometimes it's okay to not have a plan, how to be more fearless.  That's a pretty good trade off.

I heart you Sister Pister!  Or as Momma Debi would say, I liver you.

I did leave after the grand march.  Really, I'm not that embarrassing.  Sister Pister was on her own for pictures once the prom actually started.  I hear they all had a fabulous time!  Prom.  It's in the books for another year.