"A night to remember" they said

Prom has now come and gone, I am the first to write after the magical event (because Rory decided to write the post early - he's the only organised one). I am obviously NOT part of the LGBT community, so I thought I'd just recount the events of a normal prom… except NORMAL is not the right word. Apart from the world turning against me on this fabulous night, one must also consider the influence of the several LGBTs with whom I surround myself . I was sitting on my bed thinking, where do I start? The careful work of picking a dress? The unexpected zombie-making pre-party? The panic whilst getting ready? The failed journey to get there? The awkward dancing? The party-crasher? The total failure of the after-party which never happened? Or the three letter word the Dj said was the only thing that came after prom?

There is so much information going around in my head and so little time. Although some homo-journalists have already left for France, I still have business to attend to before I can join them, which means my time is presently occupied in packing (trying to fit my whole wardrobe in 20kg requires hard work) and partying while at the same time hoping I will be conscious enough to get to the airport in time for my flight tomorrow.

I therefore must say that my amazing short story about a group of crazy teenagers going to prom will have to wait for another day, as I simply do not have the time.

Nevertheless, I will just write a few lines giving a brief overview of my opinion on Prom. Ever since I was a kid, I kept watching movies in which Prom was THE event to attend. Everyone got really excited, chose the perfect dress and pray they'd be asked to the prom by some cute guy. I don't know how it is in America but... totally overrated! Who cares about the perfect dress and the perfect guy and the limo (ok I care about the limousine!) and all that pressure. The only thing that matters is having fun with your friends hoping you WILL see them again. I never had a "year 11 prom" because, I was not in England and wherever I was (I shall not betray myself by revealing my identity) there is no such thing as prom. So this was my first prom! Was I excited? At first yes, then not really, especially after the pre-party which left me totally knackered. You'd think my boyfriend would be my date to prom, but no sir. He was not coming to prom. So did I go alone? Was going to, we are all friends after all, who needs a date? But then I decided to ask one of my lovely girl-friends and although she was dubious at first she finally accepted! So I may not be part of the LGBT community, but I went to prom with a girl! *shock horror* Not that it made any difference at all, but at least I could use it as an excuse to make her dance with me, although when my boyfriend crashed prom he stole me from her - oops.

In conclusion, the Prom itself was quite fun. Everyone was wearing either beautiful or just plain funny dresses, I ate fruit with knife and fork, got a free drink for eating a whole "butter flower" (basically a spoon of butter), laughed, got covered in chocolate from the fountain and danced until my feet died.

The most important thing about Prom? Have fun with friends!

Love,

Miu xx


P.S. Don't forget to e-mail us at homojournal@gmail.com for any questions, comments, request or if you are bored and have nothing better to do. We are available 24/7 (that is 24 minutes every 7 hours) so try your luck!

Prom is like a packet of chocolate digestives.

I didn't go to the Year 11 Prom. Back then I was barely out, had no boyfriend nor any idea who else was gay and interested. Now, I am completely out (I think), still have no boyfriend, and am even more clueless as to who is gay and interested. Perhaps it's worth noting that at the time of my Year 11 prom, I was aware of only one other "out guy", although neither of us were particularly interested in each other at the time. Coincidentally, by some bizarre circumstance we ended up 'dating' for a brief period of time during my lower sixth year. I'm not sure 'dating' is exactly the word here, since we never actually once went on a proper date nor did he ever show any interest in me once I'd plucked up the courage, half out of desperation, to ask him out. But I digress, back to the topic of being gay at Prom.


Another reason I didn't go to the Year 11 Prom was that I had been single for far too long - pretty much my entire life, to be truthful - and quite a few of my friends had a romantic attachment of some description. To me, the thought of watching other people make out in front of whomever cared to look while I remained sadly unwanted and unloved was a rather depressing one, and I knew that I would start feeling a little sick by the end of it. You see, I've always imagined that Prom as a single gay guy would be a bit like a massive packet if chocolate digestives: at the start it's great, but by the end you feel a bit sick from a) watching everyone get off with one another and you're sitting there like a plonker with only your horrible biology teacher and an empty bottle of J2O for company, and b) all the digestives you've eaten (you're now more than a little constipated). 

And there's always that lonely biscuit right at the end of the packet, when its companions have met their doom inside your stomach... 

So it will come as no surprise that the idea of sitting on my own with nothing but the evil Physics teacher and an empty half-a-bottle-of-wine this time round didn't exactly fill me with joy. Yes, we're apparently only allowed half a bottle of wine or something stupid like that. It's a bit rubbish, but don't judge.

Perhaps you're wondering why I bothered going at all then, given that I had no-one to go with, and wasn't about to give up feeling awkward about it. Well, despite my relatively slim chances, I decided to go because I'm a bit of a 'FOMO' homo - that's a fear of missing out homo (and I'm sure we'll come back to this in a few weeks time). I don't want to not go, because I'm terrified I'll miss out - partly because of all the banter I'd miss, partly because there's a minuscule chance that the man of my dreams is hiding somewhere amongst my esteemed former classmates just waiting to whisk me off into the sunset.

In my fucking dreams.

Any single person will tell you that the thought of going to the school Prom alone is probably their second-worst nightmare. The first-worst is clearly waking up to find they're out of Jelly Babies and Vodka. Maybe Prom will become more bearable for the single man/woman/shemale if he/she/they (not sure if that's the correct pronoun, will get back to you on that) thinks of it as that gigantic packet of chocolate digestives I was talking about earlier; after too much, it all gets a bit sickly.

Sorry for rambling a bit this week, I haven't quite been with it since.... well, since Mel started counting down the days 'til results day, frankly. I'll try and be a little less vague next week. In the meantime, you know where to find us.

Our school is holding a leaver's prom

I was never a princess-y type girl, never the type to look at brides and dream of when it'll be my turn to wear the big puffy cloud-thing. I was raised to hate pink and girly things: "you don't like pink.. you hate pink" my mother always used to say, so I've always avoided pink clothes and overly girly things. Besides, barbies were boring, toy cars and fake tools are always better.

Ok, maybe not always...

So from that angle, the prom doesn't excite me. I don't care for the promy dress. If anything, I want to wear a tux, but my grandma has forbid it: "Oh NO, you don't want people thinking you're a dyke". She doesn't know that ship has already sailed..

Can't I just stay home instead?

She was very disappointed when she discovered I didn't have "a boy to escort me to the prom". She told me that she wasn't going to tell Brenda, her neighbour, because then I would have lost to Sharon, Brenda's Grandchild. That's the second reason I don't like prom, it's beginning to make me feel like a show-dog, and not a prize-winning one. We are all being judged, if not by our own grandmother and their nosy neighbours,  by the people in our class and our teachers.

There aren't many guys with long hair these days, can't we go with girls instead?

The prom is one of those big ceremonies, that we've seen on the telly, always the same: a guy asks a girl to the dance, she agrees, he turns up at her doorstep with some flower-thing, and drives her to the prom, at which point slow music comes on, everyone starts to slow-dance and they kiss, have their moment, and sneak off to the football pitch and....

sometimes you wake up on your own the next morning..

But then when you're in a gay or lesbian relationship, it's going to be a tad different. There are four approaches:

• One of you decides to be the "girl" and the other the "guy"
• You both act your own gender, and make it up as you go along..
• Or the same as above, but both acting the opposite gender (think: the lesbians going to the prom in suits stereotype)
• Hide the fact that you're gay, and find someone of the opposite gender to go with

There's also another, separate approach:

Your school has banned you from going.. and it's been in the news quite a bit in america, where a girl was banned from her prom, for trying to bring her girlfriend. She complained, and so they cancelled the prom for everyone. 

But they're SO fucking cute!!

It is just a bit worrying... but oh well... they haven't banned us yet.. So we should be ok, Mel and I ://

love eli xxx

ps, where the fudge is todostrieb??? She seems to be MIA D:

also, comment or email if you wish >.<

Cinderella You Shall Go to the Prom

Ah, Year 13 prom. I can almost smell the clouds of hairspray, fake tan and perfume now.  After being disappointingly single at my last prom, this year I'm going all out. Think Big Fat Gypsy Weddings prom dress and gold KG lilah flat gladiator sandals. Luckily for me I’m blessed with Eli as my date. Unluckily for my Nan, it appears as if I am unable to snag a guy for longer than a week, due to some horrific personality flaw or physical deformity.

This is me. You may recognise me from such films as Toy Story 1, 2 and 3.

In my head Eli is a Japanese version of Mulan. I am Belle. Although, granted I only decided on Belle because she is the nerdiest princess. I tried to find a picture to illustrate our princessness but am now scarred for life, tip don’t Google the word lesbian in front of your childhood heroes. In reality I will look more like a potato standing next to Megan Fox....I guess what I’m trying in my roundabout way to say here is that my Prom preparations are much the same as last time round, when I didn't have a date female or otherwise. The only difference is I have shorter hair so the up-do is no longer a necessity and that when my extended family ask if I have a date I stretch the truth a little. I find “No I don’t have a boy friend at the moment” is a nice skirting of the having a girlfriend part of my life.

Doing it the Essex way. Luckily my bitch haircut saves me from the chaviness.

Now, as for my close family, I cheerily admitted going to prom with Eli. My mum said this was the only way I’d be able to look a normal size, when all the other girls will be wearing heels and all the guys I know are now taller than me. My dad told me to make sure I took lots of pictures. A few of us are staying at Eli’s house, so we’re all getting ready together. Not many girls can say their partners advised on make-up, laced them into their corsets and helped test perfumes.

I have no fear of actual prom night, most of my teachers know I have a girlfriend. If they don’t well, they’ll soon find out and hopefully it will be a secondary paedophilia deterrent. All my school friends already know, and I’m supporting the foundation of a Eli and Mel fanclub, so no worries on that front. Perhaps there is a small part of me conditioned to believe that at least one of us should be wearing a tux. On the other hand, after having a dream in which Eli and I got married, both wearing white poofy dresses and walking down the aisle together, I can feel some of my social conditioning slipping away.

A quick word for our less fortunate LGBT brethren. When exploring ideas for this post I came across this title on the guardian website “School cancels prom over fear of lesbians”. Dear lord, fear? What do they think we’re going to do to them? Essentially a girl wanted to bring her girlfriend as a date to prom, so it got cancelled. This doesn't seem any different to when black people were barred from clubs or Jewish people were barred from restaurants. If you agree with that, politely put, you are a lemon and I'm glad that your prom got cancelled because you didn't deserve it. Any lesbians are welcome to come with me and Eli. We will stage a lesbian prom take over, eat everyone’s toes and use their eyebrows for our witchcraft. Luckily this story did spawn some rather funny motivational posters, I have included for your enjoyment.

Much love, white wine, balloons and dancing,

Your Mel x

Prom? 3 days? Fetch me my lace blindfold...

Oh, look, it's me again. Did you miss me? Probably not, but that's of little consequence to me, as I desperately sift through the Mauna Kea sized pile of clothing on my floor. You see, while I was off enjoying myself in pubs, bars and ditches, I quite completely forgot that Prom is:

a) on the 28th of June, and
b) quite a big deal.

Even if you are only there for the complementary red wine.

Even the fact that this week's theme is "Prom from an LGBTQS Perspective", and has been for 2 weeks didn't alert me to the fact that Prom might be taking place sometime around now. It just didn't cross my mind at all. Back in Secondary School I spent 2 months panicking about it, trying to somehow find the perfect outfit to say both "I am fashionable, dapper and charming" and "I am very much, 102%, absolutely heterosexual" at the same time. In college, I could turn up to Prom dressed as Carmen Miranda and not too many people would give me a second glance.

Even the ones that did would only be doing so because my hat was more appetising than the food.

In Secondary School, I had no idea who I was. I knew I'd considered guys handsome, even attractive, but it didn't click in my head that that was ok. As such, I spent almost all of Prom walking around in a daze, trying my level best not to look at the sporty guys in their fetching jackets, lest the world catch fire, the sky turn black and demons run amok. It wasn't amazingly pleasant.

"He shouldn't have worn tight trousers. And that bow-tie - oh god, that bow-tie..."

Now, I can grope my friends as much as I like. I even have an in-joke with one of them about it (to Todostrieb's perpetual disdain). I'm not saying that this short post has exhausted every possible issue the LGBTQS community has with Prom; that's why there are 6 of us, to cover everything. I know there's issues with whether or not you can bring your boyfriend/girlfriend/hermaphrodite/transexual friend to Prom, and whether it's acceptable to dress as Lily Savage if you're 6ft 8" and have a goatee, but I can only comment on what I've experienced, and at the moment, the worst thing about Prom is that I have fuck-all fancy enough to wear apart from my fetish gear.

And I'm only 5ft 4", have no goatee, and my boyfriend doesn't even go to the school, so those issues, much like whether or not the Constant Readers wanted a double dose of James, are of little consequence to me.

Feel free to harass or praise us at homojournal@gmail.com, we get off on it.

Yours panickingly,

James

Seriously, I think Todostrieb's good will will only withstand so many incidences of me groping her boyfriend's crotch; I may be murdered soon.