at the prom and confessed his love to her, even though she was wearing that hideous dress.
And now I am sitting here - having told Lana that Skinner Box would definitely be performing at the prom -trembling with excitement over my own good fortune. I am going to the prom. I, Mia Thermopolis, am going to the prom. With my boyfriend and one true love, Michael Moscovitz. Michael and I are going to the prom.
MICHAEL AND I ARE GOING TO THE PROM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
TO THE PROM!!!!!!!!!!!!
PROM!
Friday, May 9, 7 p.m., the Loft
I really do not have time for all of this bickering between my mom and Grandmere. Don't these women know I have more important things to worry about? I AM GOING TO THE PROM TOMORROW WITH MY BOYFRIEND. I am
supposed to be getting plenty of rest and anointing my body with precious unguents right now, not refereeing fights between
the post-menopausal and the hormonally-challenged.
WHY CAN'T YOU BOTH SHUT UP??????????? I want to scream at them.
But that, of course, wouldn't be very princesslike.
I am going to put on my headphones and try to drown out the noise with the mix Michael made for my birthday party.
Perhaps the dulcet tones of The Flaming Lips will calm my fractious nerves.
Homework
Algebra: Who cares? Michael and I are going to the prom!!!!!
English: Prom!!!!
Biology: I'm going to the prom!!!!!!!!
Health and Safety: PROM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Gifted and Talented: As if
French: Nous Allans Au Promme!!!!!!
World Civ.: WORLD PROM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PROM!
Friday, May 9, 7:02 p.m.
Not even The Flaming Lips can drown out Grandmere's strident tones. Am switching to Kelly Osbourne.
Friday, May 9, 7:04 p.m.
Success! Finally, I can hear myself think.
Michael just emailed to let me know that he and the band would probably be up all night practising for their first big gig. But it
is fully all right for the GUY to show up at the prom with dark circles under his eyes (look at that guy who ended up at the
Time Zone dance with Melissa Joan Hart in Drive Me Crazy}. It's just not OK for the GIRL to look less than petal smooth and daisy fresh.
The guys in the band aren't exactly stoked about the whole playing-at-the-prom thing. In fact, rumour has it Trevor even said, 'Oh, man, can't we just stick forks in our eyes, instead?'
But Michael says he told him a gig is a gig, and that beggars can't be choosers.
Michael signed off on his email with this:
See you tomorrow night. Love, M
Tomorrow night. Oh yes. Tomorrow night, my love, when I enter the prom on your arm, and see the jealous gazes of all of
my peers. Well, just Lana, because she's the only freshman besides me who is going. Except for Shameeka. Only she would never look at me jealously, because she is my friend.
Oh, and Tina. Because it turns out Tina is going to the prom, too. Because of course Boris is in Michael's band, and since he
is going to be there, he is allowed to bring one guest, and he chose Tina, because she, as he put it at lunch today, 'is my new muse, and sole reason for living.'
Oh, how thrilled Tina looked to hear those words uttered from the lips of her new love! I swear, she practically choked on her Fruitopia. She beamed across the table at Boris, and though I never thought I would write these words, I swear they are true:
Boris almost looked handsome as he basked beneath the hearthglow of her affection.
Seriously. Like, even his underbite didn't look that pronounced. And his chest kind of puffed out.
Either that, or he's been working out or something.
AHHHHH! The phone! Oh please God let it be my dad to say the strike is over and he's sending the limo down to pick Grandmere up ...
Friday, May 9, 7:10 p.m.
It wasn't my dad. It was Michael, to ask if I agree with the line-up of songs Skinner Box plans on playing tomorrow. It
includes many old prom standbys, such as The Moldy Peaches' 'Who's got the Crack' and Switchblade Kittens' 'All Cheerleaders Die', in addition to edgier stuff such as 'Mary Kay' by Jill Sobule and 'Call the Doctor' by Sleater-Kinney.
This is not to mention Skinner Box's original songs, such as 'Rock Throwing Youths' and 'Princess of my Heart'.
I did feel compelled to suggest Michael substitute 'Rock Throwing Youths' with something a little less controversial, like
'When It's Over' by Sugar Ray or 'She Bangs' by Ricky Martin, but he said he would sooner show up in the middle of Times Square wearing nothing but a cowboy hat (oh, how I wish he would!). So I suggested some old school Spoon or White
Stripes instead.
Then Michael went, 'What is all that shouting in the background?'
'Oh,' I said airily. 'That's just Grandmere and my mom arguing. Grandmere keeps insisting that my mom let her smoke in the Loft, but Mom says it's not good for me, or for the baby. Grandmere just accused my mother of being a fascist. She says
when she had Hitler and Mussolini over to the palace for tea at the height of World War Two, they both let her smoke, and
if it was good for those guys, it should be good enough for my mom.'
'Uh, Mia,' Michael said. 'You do realize that your grandmother just turned sixty-five.'
'Yeah,' I said, remembering Grandmere's birthday with all too much clarity: she had insisted on me going back to Genovia
with her to celebrate it, only I had had midterms (THANK GOD) and so was unable to. Don't think I didn't hear about
THAT ad nauseam for weeks.
'Well, Mia,' Michael said. 'I know maths is not your strong point, but you do know that your grandmother could only have
been about five years old during the height of World War Two. Right? I mean, she couldn't have had Hitler and Mussolini for tea at the Genovian Palace, because she wouldn't have even been living there yet, unless she married your grandfather when
she was like, four.'
I was stunned into total and complete silence by that one. I mean, can you believe it? My own grandmother has been lying