LEDGER COLUMNIST

Tara JENNINGS We were talking in our staff meeting Thursday about the pros and cons of attending more than one prom.

While there was one school of thought that insisted that attending only one prom makes that special occasion even more momentous, I would tend to disagree.

Like other areas of my life, including baking red velvet cakes, I need to have a chance for trialand error.

My junior prom experience ended badly in the emergency room.

I was attending the prom with my boyfriend, whom I "loved" (oh, what we learn over time). I found a perfect dress, and was a member of the prom committee to help plan the memorable event.

At my school in Pennsylvania, we had a dinner dance followed by Prom To Dawn, which was hosted by the Junior class' parents. At Prom To Dawn, which was held at the elementary school so we could swim in our pool, there was fake gambling, dancing, a balloon drop, and many prizes given away.

Once we arrived at the prom, I found my friends and we took our seats for dinner. The prom took a downward turn after that.

To make a long story short, my boyfriend and I began arguing almost immediately. Shortly after dinner, as the dance floor was just heating up, we left because I wasn't having any fun. My intentions were to go home, get my own car, and meet my friends back at the prom.

I think there will be some women out there who agree with me when I say this: As soon as I possibly can, I remove my high heel shoes. Men are blessed by not having to give birth and not having to wear high heels and pantyhose.

As we drove home yelling at each other, I attempted to accentuate a point I was trying to make my stomping my foot on the floorboard of the car, which just happened to be where I had laid the souvenir champagne glasses.

I believe that's the closest I have ever come to being in shock. The combination of a ruined prom, along with the discovery that my foot was bleeding profusely, sent me into a hysterical fit. Once my knight in not-so shining armor managed to calm me down, we decided we would try to clean the wound ourselves (which meant he would do it because I couldn't look at my foot without breaking into a sobfest).

It didn't take long before we realized the do-it-ourselves medical care wasn't working and I needed to go to the emergency room. I made the dreaded call to my parents, and made up some excuse about how a deer had run out in front of us, causing me to slam my foot into the floor onto the glass. I was too embarrassed to admit my anger had anything to do with it.

There we are at the emergency room. Me in my full, Victorian-style prom dress, my date standing next to me whispering apologies and my parents running in frantically as the doctor cleaned shards of glass from my foot. After a tetanus shot, and pain medication injected into the site of the wound, I was determined to make the best of the last few hours of my evening.

My date and I arrived at the Prom To Dawn, and after sharing my embarrassing story with a few friends, I was ready to dance. Whatever pain medication they gave me at the ER worked well, because I felt no pain for the rest of the night.

The next year, I went with one of my closest friends and we had the best time. We ended up getting lost leaving the parking area and driving on a golf course (I know there are many of you cringing as you read that) but we made some great memories, none of which involved a trip to the hospital.