Prom. Prom. Prom. Prom. Prom. Prom. EVERYBODY.

Senior prom is a win. I'm just saying. So you people get to hear about every second of it. [kind of.]

Last Saturday, we spent the day at Thanksgiving Point; driving golf carts around the gardens, playing in the fountains, and visiting the dinosaur museum. It was a blast. But the real party was this weekend.

I had a hair/makeup appointment, and the best part of that was the eyes. I'm telling you people. Amber Woffinden has magical powers. SHE DID PEACOCK EYESHADOW FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. Seriously though, blue and purple feathers, on my eyes. However, it was daarrrrk. Like hookerish dark by the time we put mascara on, so we lightened it, and nixed the feathers. Downer. My hair was fabulous, and she incorporated everything I wanted into it. I'm telling you, magic.

Then my date, Matt Mansfield, picked me up in his uncle's amazing Corvette. My parents were down in Salt Lake setting up for the pictures, (my dad always plays dance photographer. Handy, really.) so I was fending for myself. Guess who put the boutonniere on flawlessly, the first time, with no help?? Me. That's right.

Then we drove to Salt Lake in the POURING rain for pictures and dinner, where finding parking was an adventure in itself. Ate, got photographed, and made our way to the State Capitol Building for the dance. That place is magical.

We danced til we dropped--almost literally, but not quite--and Matt was a sweetheart. Making sure I was always happy, was dancing with who I wanted to, dancing every slow song with me (and not doing it awkwardly. We actually looked like we liked each other. Winner, right there.), and basically just making me feel like a million bucks. We're both spazzy dancers which meant we moshed, and we moshed hard. My feet will be bruised for weeks.

When we were getting ready to leave, we realized it wasn't raining. I knew my hair would get ruined, but.... If it meant driving with the top down, I was willing to do anything. So we did, and blasted fun. the whole way....to the Bountiful exit, where it promptly started pouring, and we had to put the top back up. Oh well.

We changed in record time, and ate out of a chocolate fountain at the McRae's. Then we migrated downstairs, and claimed a spot on the best LoveSac to watch "How to Train Your Dragon." I'm fairly certain I was asleep for the majority of the movie, and Matt's entire right side of his body probably was too, but I think he was far too interested in the show to notice.

We made it home by curfew, he gave me a hug and spun me around again, and left.

It wasn't a huge deal, and it wasn't extravagant. But the kid is a gentleman, and I absolutely adore him. That's the moral of the story.