WHY I DON'T GO TO BALLS

I went to a ball before, it was a Unit Ball when my husband was still active duty.  It wasn't just the usual dining out, it was a BALL!  And I was expected to wear a gown, not just a dress.  I had never been to a ball before.  In fact I hadn't even been to a high school prom, so I was very excited.

My husband bought me a beautiful purple lace 2 piece formal skirt outfit.  It was the most beautiful outfit I had ever worn besides my wedding dress.  I wanted to do my hair up, but the last time I had my hair done it cost $72 for a do that wilted half way through the party, so I decided to do a temporary home perm.  I bought the rollers, the solution, and got to work.  Unfortunately when your hair is 3 feet long it takes a long LONG time to set.  My husband had to help out because I thought my arms were going to drop off.

So, while I'm waiting for my hair to dry, I began to get ready.  Next thing on the list, press on nails!  I use super glue to make sure they stay on good, and then I polish the nails a deep wine color that matches my outfit.  Next, apply prefab face.  That goes on without a hitch and I was actually ahead of schedule, which was good being as I was about to encounter every problem in the book.

 

Did you know that it is almost impossible to put on control top panty hose with press-on nails?  I learned that the hard way.  In the end I had to enlist the help of my husband.  I went through 2 pairs due to popping holes from my perfect plum colored Lees.  And... if I thought rolling my hair was hard, I was about to experience something even worse... UNROLLING my hair!  After the last curler was removed I looked like Bozo the clown!  I tried wetting down my hair but it hardly made a difference.  It didn't help that my husband stood by barely able to contain his laughter.

I ended up clipping my hair down and it almost looked like I had actually intended to look that way, so I still went to the hotel feeling good about myself.  We sat with people I had never met before, but I had on my Lee press-on nails, and I felt marvelous!  I ate my dinner in between animated conversations in which I waved my hands and flashed my beautiful nails.  Towards the end of the meal I excused myself to go to the restroom.  When I moved to wash my hands I saw to my complete dismay that my nails were full of baked potatoes and sour cream from my dinner.  Not being used to the extra length of my new nails I had evidently gouged the spud on my plate more than once and was no doubt flashing it around the table during my dinner conversation.  No wonder everyone was laughing.  And there I was thinking I was being witty.

That was the last time I wore artificial nails, and my last ball.  And so while I love a good party, I don't do well at balls and will have to sit the Cyber-ball out.  To the elected court, my congratulations, but Cinderella will just have to read about this one the day after.