Long at last! I know many of you have been holding your breath for this post; you may now exhale (I am, quite obviously, kidding). But maybe you have been curious which dress I chose. Maybe. Just maybe.
Well, if you remember from before, I had narrowed my choices to three cocktail-length dresses. The vast majority of you voted for "Dress A," a sophisticated, modest black dress with all over lace. Majority wins, so I was going with A.
Last Tuesday/Wednesday, my body began eating itself from the inside out. Not really. But I got for real sick, and ranted about it to you all. By Friday, my fever hit 101.5 degrees and I completely lost my voice. Saturday rolled around and my fever had gone down a little, but I still had only a whisper. The Hubby said we shouldn't go to the Medicine Ball. I insisted that we must, as it is probably the only Med Ball we'll ever attend and we MUST make memories such as this; somehow I prevailed (probably because we had already shelled out $70 for the tickets). So I am getting ready on Saturday, taking frequent breaks to sit and, you know, not pass out, and decide to try on Dress A to make sure I still like it. And I did. However. Apparently when I tried it on for the photo shoot, I failed to realize that it was a poor fit in one (well, two) areas. If it were my dress, I probably could have tacked it down with a needle and thread and made it work, but, alas, it wasn't mine to sew. After rearranging it and me a hundred times, the Hubby deemed it a flop. I tried on the silky little black dress and agreed with most of you - too va-va-voom. The cotton with ruffled pink skirt? Too casual. I, naturally, panicked. We were leaving soon and I was now back at square one. Square zero? Maybe even square negative one.
I insisted that the Hubby ask his classmate, with whom we were riding, what his fiance was wearing. She was wearing a long, black, fairly formal dress. I took this as bad news with all of my short dress options - but the Hubby's face instantly lit up. "MJ!" he exclaimed, "the black and red dress!"
Hubby swoops in and saves the day. I had brought up an old dress from my parents' house but had kind of forgotten about it, as I was going for short dresses, and this was a long one. Also, I think the last dry cleaning of the dress did a number on it - missing a hook-and-eye clasp, beads falling off, etc. But. This was my dress, so bring on the needle, thread, safety pins, tweezers and, yes, pliers. Eleven safety pins, four surgical knots tied with tweezers (I mean forceps?) because the strings were so short and one bend of the remaining hook-and-eye clasp back into proper shape with the pliers, and this is the result:
|Please note that my hair not only ended in a pony-tail, but also started in one. It was pouring rain and terribly windy, and I knew my curls wouldn't make it to the car. So I busted out the side pony early.|
You can't really tell from the picture, but the bottom of the skirt is very, very full. It would have been fun to dance in, if I could have danced, but lets be realistic - walking was about as strenuous as I could get. Enter: very old picture from college when I first bought the dress, modeling it for Heather, that I just copied off Facebook to demonstrate the fullness for you. No, that's not my messy bedroom. Never.
|Oh, do I ever miss my dark hair!|
Anyway, moving on from old pictures. I had made some super cute flower shoe clips to wear with the black lace dress to fancy up my plain black heels, but they were purple and obviously not matching my black and red dress. I really wanted something fancy/frilly still, so I quick grabbed my hot glue gun and black feathers and made a little hair clip. Please note that using a hot glue gun while pretty sick is ill-advised. Pun intended.
|This is post-ball. I had already been sleeping in the car for an hour. And it was really, really windy. Hence the uber bad hair - but you get the idea.|
After I was all safety-pinned into my dress, had my tiny little purse full of tissues, cough drops, medicine and more safety pins, I was
mildly drugged all ready to go. We rode to the other campus of the school where the Med Ball was being held with a lovely couple, she and I in both our long fancy gowns, taking comfort in the fact that even if everyone else was more casual, at least we wouldn't be the only one over-dressed. Getting there, we learned that despite the fact that we were paying $35 per plate, it was still a cash bar (and that a single bottle of bud light cost $5) (not that I would have indulged in a cocktail regardless, because I was pretty DayQuilled up), enjoyed a yummy dinner with good company (though my steak was so rare, it was mooing still) and had shockingly good entertainment. There were students who displayed various talents of singing, playing instruments, rapping (I know) and stand-up comedy. The best part were the Med Ball Follies (funny little movie clips done by students). Among others, there was a dub on the security cameras/technology in the new building, a great music video, a Jeopardy spoof and a Mean Girls spoof. They were seriously so, so good. The entertainment lasted until 10:30, which I'm sure most people thought was a little long, but I was perfectly content to sit, guzzle water, discreetly blow my nose and chow down on cough drops. There was a lot of friendly rivalry between the two campuses of our Med School, comparing the original/old campus to our/new campus. I don't think that the students at our campus appreciate quite how well they have it in their gorgeous, brand-spanking-new, state of the art building!
We stayed and chatted with people until about 11:30. When I say "chatted," I really mean the Hubby told whoever we were standing by that I had lost my voice, and they'd all ask me how (like the tissue sticking out of my dress wasn't a clue) and I'd croak/whisper that I was battling a cold, and then would continue to nod along and smile for the rest of the conversation.
All in all, it was a great night. It probably would have been awesome, if I'd been a little more human and a little less in a sick daze. I'm actually still in the sick daze. I've dominated four-going-on-five boxes of Kleenex in the past week! Pretty impressive, no?