I probably should have put the title of today's blog in quotations, because it's the title of a blog that belongs to someone else and is probably even copyrighted. I certainly don't want to be sued by the owner of the copyright, if, indeed, it is copyrighted. I could go back now and add the quotation marks, but I'm too damned lazy.
"Mommy Wants Vodka" is the title of a popular blog by a major player in the blogosphere, Becky Sherrick Harks, or Becky Harks Sherrick. I get confused about which is her maiden name and which is her married name, and haven't yet committed the mental resources necessary for me to keep it straight. At some point I may. Then again, maybe I won't, and I'll go through life totally ignorant in regard to which is her correct name. C'est la vie. I'm ignorant about things far more important than that, as I am reminded on a daily basis by relatives close and not-so-close, both physically and biologically. At least my very cloeest biological relative, my twin brother, seems to have quit (or at least to have placed himself on the injured reserve list) of the team of relatives whose dedicated purpose is to remind me on a regular basis of just how stupid, ignorant, or otherwise thorough a waste of space on the planet I am. Thanks, Matthew, for no longer being one of those people.
Becky Sherrick Harks or vice versa wrote somewhere that she had originally considered naming her blog "Mommy Wants Vicodin." I actually like that name better than the one she ultimately chose. Someday when I am a parent, I may ask her for permission to use the name. She probably won't answer me, though.
Becky Sherrick Harks (or vice versa)'s column has a feature, "Ask Aunt Becky." There's a space where readers can write questions. Somewhere I read that the questions are answered on Sundays. I wrote her a question that needed sort of a timely answer, but answers to questions on her column did not appear yeasterday. That may have been because it was a holiday. It also may have been because answers appear somewhere else and I don't know where that place is. The bottom line is that I don't know if Aunt Becky answered my question already, if she didn't get to it yet, or if she never will. Some question/answer formats are so impacted that getting an answer is a million-to-one shot. I have no idea how it works in Ms. Sherrick Harks' (or vice versa)'s case.
I'll ask people here. I get a very limited number of readers, and an even more limited number of responders. If you're ever going to respond to my column, please respond now. I really need input, and I need it in the semi-anonymous format from which I'll get it here. I can't afford to position myself in a kiosk at my local mall with a clipboard to seek opinions of passers-by. Help me! PLEASE!
My old columns allude to a prom date from last year that apparently wasn't meant to be. I was in a wheelchair with a mangled leg and a broken clavicle at the time of the prom. The guy who had invited me to the prom uninvited me, though not personally, or by phone, email, text-message, Western Union, singing telegram,smoke signal, or anything so direct. He announced it in the school cafeteria. Those who heard it, including his new prom date, actually delivered the message to me in person.
I was invited this year, but that invitation fell though, though not through the fault of the guy who invited me. I won't give any details, but I really don't blame him for the mess. Now another guy has invited me. I know nothing of his intentions. I don't know him well. I don't know if he invited me on a dare, and he's going to do a grand no-show. I don't know if it's a bet and he stands to collect tons of winnings if he shows up in public with me. I don't even know if my parents bribed him with cash to get him to ask me.
My mom tells me if I do not attend my senior prom I will one day regret it. Maybe she's right. If I do go and find out that I was somehow on the wrong end of a joke, I know I'll regret it a lot longer and harder. My brother says he'll kill anyone who sets me up in any way, but that won't undo any of the actual public humiliation.
There are people I could trust to ask this, but they're dealing with issues in their own lives right now, so I can't bother them with my petty problems. I could make myself sick and not have to go, but if the invitation happened to be for real, that would be cutting off my nose to spite my face.
As realistically and objectively as I can, I'll try to describe my own social schema. I'm a very nerdy girl. I don't think others see me as ugly, but I'm small and underdeveloped. I'm an academic overachiever. Generally speaking, I'm not picked on or targeted by bullies. I was once physically assaulted, but it was in response to a situation where a person was punished for stealing a paper I wrote; he and his friends retaliated against me. The instance was isolated and not ongoing. I really don't think what happened to me falls under the umbrella of bullying.
I'm sixteen, but I'm finishing high school this year, so it's my final shot at my own prom as a high school student. There is life after high school, so I know that I'm not doomed to a life of complete failure if I miss this prom. Still, I want to make the best decision. If I were in possession of a crystal ball, the decision would be an easier one to make.
All I have, however, are an invitation that at face value seems a bit suspicious, my mom's insistence that everyone who's anyone at all goes to her senior prom, and a gut feeling that something here might not be on the level.
People who don't usually respond, please respond. The more opinions I have to bounce around, the more educated my final decision will be. If you are not yet a high school senior, you will oneday be one, and may find yourself in a similar situation. If you were once a high school senior, have a little compassion and give me your opinion even if you don't normally bother with such things.