Last night was Q Prom. The Q stands for Queer. It was fun, though not as fantastic as the school's prom. But it did give me a perfect opportunity to wear sideburns.
My face looks kind of dweeby in this photo but that's okay. The point is, I love having sideburns! Seriously, I wish I could wear them all the time. Not grow them... no. Not grow them. And not, like, a tattoo or anything. Just draw them on with permanent marker or something. Maybe a henna tattoo. Anyway, the point is that I thoroughly enjoyed having sideburns last night. As I readily informed anyone who commented on them.
I was surprised at how many people there I didn't know. By way of high schools, my town only has my school, the private Catholic school, and the not-quite-dropout school, so a lot of these people were from out of town or weren't in high school anymore. I talked to a few new people whom I'll probably never meet again, including a girl who had lived in about a zillion different places in the country because of her military parents, and a trans guy who talked on and on about cosplaying and was the only person that I know recognised me as female.
The dance was held at a local museum that... its interior really seems to be larger than its exterior. And I had to learn to say it that way, too, because the first few times I tried to point out that the museum is 'bigger on the inside,' which is the easiest way to say it, the person to whom I commented would invariably turn out to be a Doctor Stalker, even the people I would last suspect of DoctorStalkerHood, like Flaming Boy from North Carolina, and serious discussion of the museum's bizarre quality would be lost amidst talk of Tardises. Gaaah, I just can't escape the Doctor Stalkers no matter where I go. Regi and Leaena weren't even there. I tell you, it's an invasion. A foreign show!
It was kind of funny, though, because my sideburns effectively sorted the Doctor Stalkers, who of course said they looked like you-know-whose, from those not 'indoctrinated' (hahah yes Leaena is so clever blah blah blah can you tell I'm getting very tired of being surrounded by fanatics and yet they've done a good job of dragging me over to the dark side even though I'm not happy about it - heheheh, I'm a Doctor Stalker exactly the way Flyby is a Gleek) - 'those not indoctrinated' being Ladybug and sweet-little-closet-boy Stevie - said something having to do with Elvis. Oh, Stevie. Everyone he knows is a Doctor Stalker; they'll get him soon enough, the way they got me. Resistance is futile.
Anyway, yeah, there was food and loud noise and dancing and ultraviolet light, and if I had known beforehand that there would be ultraviolet light I would have drawn on my chest in highlighter instead of brown, and it would have glowed. Alas. Yes I haven't mentioned yet that I drew sort of an abstract design thing on my chest, because I've been wanting to do that for a while... And I did this thing with duct tape so that I could unbutton my shirt way down past the xiphoid and not have to worry about my breasts, like so:
So I think most people not-of-my-acquaintance thought I was male. Which was cool. Duct tape is fantastic stuff. Really, is there anything it can't do? ...Actually, hang on, I think the Mythbusters have scientifically proven that no, there isn't anything duct tape can't do. Yeah. Duct tape.
Anyway, yeah, Q Prom. It was pretty good. And I want sideburns.