So what are y'all?

One of Charles' friends took some pix on prom night, and after a fair
amount of nagging, he sent them to me.  Here's a few of them:

The whole crew, preparing to set off for their Big Night.

Even a stretch limosine is a trifle cramped with so many inside
it.  Bet that Dr. Pepper tasted good in such posh
surroundings. 

Inside the Fort Worth Club.  I asked Charles what they were served
for dinner, to which his response was a vague,
"Chicken...potatoes...some sort of fish..."

The chef would be disheartened to hear this, wouldn't he?

At the Senior Celebration, which had casino games (I was wrong, Dad!), an inflated slide, and I'm not sure what else.

The downside of being tall for one's age.

Brianna, still only 4 years old, is flirting with 42", the maximum
height permitted for children playing in the Ridgmar mall play area.

I hope it falls to someone else's lot to be with her when she finally
doesn't fit under the bar, and is refused admittance. 

It wasn't today, though!  Close, but still a little room between the top of her head and the end of happy hours at the mall:

Tell you what, when it comes to never meeting a stranger, I give you
Brianna.  That child waves at everyone, greets them, is bold about
approaching other children with the outstretched hand of friendship,
never fearing a rebuff.

I'm crowding 54.  When will *I* be like that? 

Turns out 80K points = $100, and by the time he got to the Shoppes at
the Pink Flamingo everything he considered desirable in his price range
was taken, so he settled on a $25 Best Buy g/c for 20K points, donating
the remainder to his friend Tanner, who was a bit shy of the points
needed for something he wanted.

The limo ran over a median and popped a tire on the way to the prom.  Charles said it made them a bit late but not bad.

Saw an accident on the way from the prom to the Senior Celebration . .
. heard a noise and looked behind to see a car hit a tree. 

All in all, it was a heck of an evening. 

They clean up real nice, don't they? 

And I arrived at the drop-off house just as the limo did:

Sorry about the spotted windshield.    It's a most impressive limosine, may I say.

And I told Charles I'd be at the Senior Celebration site to fetch him and some of his friends at 4:45 a.m. 

Charles has collected 80,000 senior points, which he'll be able to
redeem for cool merchandise.  Here's the schedule of the event:

Shoppes at the Pink Flamingo
12-12:55 a.m.      Open for browsing
1-2:38 a.m.          Shopping 1 item only per buying schedule
3:10-3:45 a.m.     Shopping reopens/3 item limit

Coconut Café
12-5 a.m.            Continuous food service throughout the event

Tiki Hut Stage
12-4:45 a.m.       Door Prize drawings thoughout event
2:30-3:15 a.m.    Live Auction/4 prize packages
3:40-4:40 a.m.    Hypnotist
4:40 a.m.            Grand  Door Prize Drawing/must be present to win
4:40-5:00 a.m.    Check out/Party over!

Charles just raced wildly into the house, as he forgot the
tickets.  This gave me an opportunity to sneak out and take a
better photo of the limo:

Only worrying thing is that Charles was asking Don where the Fort Worth
Club is, as that's where the prom is.  Apparently the driver
didn't know. 

Speaking of Fort Worth, have I ever mentioned how much I hate, abhor, detest, and generally despise Dallas? 

Yesterday, in an excess of sisterly affection (just kidding, E-B!), I
set off for the depths of dismal Dallas, intent upon locating the
apartment complex Elaine thought might do as a temporary way-station
for them, as they search for a permanent abode in Fort Worth (Hal's new
place of employment is right there).

Had a Yahoo! map, the address, and the phone number, so away I went.

Got lost.  Thoroughly lost.  Totally lost.  I've rarely been
so lost.  The Venture van I bought last fall is missing one
feature I really, really wished it possessed  -  i.e. the
compass.  The sun was overhead so it was no help in determining
which direction I was going, and without a compass there was no way for
me to tell if I was going east or west or what.

After the first misfire (couldn't figure out which freeway-thing I was
supposed to take, as it wasn't labeled at all on the Yahoo map, and was
called "Woodall Rogers on Mapquest, only it's never signed as that)
where I pulled off 635 to call Don, I found my way back and exited at
the appropriate exit, seeking to turn left onto N. Pearl.

Except it turned out N. Pearl is one way, going in the opposite
direction.  Well, surely taking a left would bring me to another
largish street heading the correct direction, right?

Nope.  IT was one way, going the same direction as N. Pearl!

Now see, this doesn't happen in Fort Worth, but boy, it sure does in
Dallas.  Over and over I was tripped up by multiple one-way
streets, all going the same direction.  In Fort Worth we're, as I
said, sensible . . . if this street is one way heading west, then the following street will either be two-way or else one-way heading east. 

I was aiming for the Turtle Creek/Oak Lawn area, where the Crescent
hotel is located . . . at one point I found myself around Fair Park.

When I say I was lost, I mean I was LOST. 

By golly, though, eventually I made it. 

[suspiciously]  Surely Charles was having me on yesterday afternoon?

During a discussion on the topic "Why is Fort Worth so boring?" (that was his thesis;
I was arguing the opposite) he groused about how Fort Worth is being
referred to - "all over the place....everywhere!" - as Funky Town.

Funky Town?  Fort Worth? 

I'm very, very fond of my hometown but must regretfully report that, used as a description of it, "Funky Town" is a misnomer.

We ain't funky.  We don't do the "get down" thing.

Fort Worth is sensible.  But fun!  Those attributes are not
mutually exclusive, whatever Charles may think.  In any case, what
exactly is it Fort Worth is missing when it comes to "fun"?  We've
got megaplex movies.  We've got live theatre.  We've got a
symphony.  We've got an opera company.  We've got a great
zoo.  We've got malls.  We've got Texas Motor Speedway for
NASCAR racing.  We've got the Fort Worth Stock Show, plus
additional horse shows the rest of the year.  We've got an ice
hockey team.  We've got a baseball team (the Fort Worth
Cats).  We've got roller skating.  We've got lakes. 
We've got go-cart tracks.

Really, it's amazing the dishes ever get done at all.

What the heck is Charles talking about?  What are we missing? 

Are these kids NUTS? 

Turns out (I believe I have mentioned before that Charles is not much of one for communication) the senior prom is this weekend.

Since Charles is the only one of his group possessing both
organizational skills and a Visa card, he got stuck making the
arrangements for them to head to the prom on Saturday night and the
senior celebration afterward, including hunting down what is apparently
the last remaining limosine available for hire in the Metroplex.

Since he does not possess a car, I got stuck driving him to west Dallas
this afternoon to put down the deposit and give the directions for the
limo.

Guess.  How.  Much.  They're.  Paying. 

Go on.  Guess.

About $750!  

Fortunately there are ten of them going, so it's being split ten ways, but still.....!

Charles insists that's a decent rate, saying a friend of his in fifth period has one reserved that's $1200.

That's right.  One thousand, two hundred dollars.  For a limosine. 

He forgot about the need for a corsage for his date, Summer.  I
told him I'd get something tomorrow.  (She's wearing a black
dress, so I thought perhaps white roses?)

Between the cost of the ticket to this shindig ($100), the tux rental
($150), the limosine (equal to the GNP of a third world country), and
the corsage, this is a pricey date indeed.

BTW, the limo will take them to the dance, pick them up from it and deliver them to the senior celebration, and that's it.

"How," I asked suspiciously, "are you getting home Sunday morning?"

He smiled ingratiatingly.  "Well, I guess you'll have to pick me up since I don't have a car."

"What time?" was my next question, asked with deep foreboding.

"Six a.m." he mumbled.

I shall charitably draw a veil upon my response to that tidbit of information.  

Is anyone else having trouble telling when there are comments to be
read?  I'm having to click on the "comments" link to see whether
or not someone said anything.  The post about the woman calling
911 and the sarcastic reply by the operator?  Looking at it from
the main page, it doesn't show any comments at all.  Most
frustrating.

Most of y'all probably think of the 911 system when fire breaks out, or
a villain is attempting to break in, or something of that nature.

A woman named Lori over in Watauga (suburb just north of Fort Worth) takes a more wide-ranging view of its duties, calling it when her 12 year daughter was acting up and kicked a hole in the wall.

The 911 operator showed the stuff Texas guys are made of:  "Do you want us to come over to shoot her?"

I regret to report the woman did not take it in the spirit it was said,
and is insisting a written reprimand and threat of termination isn't
sufficient.

Maybe she wants him shot?