Why Cinderella Was Late For The Ball

“Ma’am, is there a reason you were going 20 m.p.h. over the speed limit on a mountain road in the rain?” The officer asked. 

*sob*

“Well officer… I just…

*wipes snot*

…I just had my flight cancelled and I have to go to the ball tonight in Michigan and it’s a 10 hour drive from North Carolina… and…

*breaks down completely”

I just love himmmmmm”

You my dear reader might be wondering what exactly is going on here and why I was sitting on the side of the road, in Virginia, with black tears pouring down my face and I have every intention of telling you every gory detail… so buckle up.

It had started out as a normal day at least. I had flown to NC to pick up an evening gown for Danny’s Army Ball and was supposed to fly back to Detroit at 6am for the 7pm ball.

Tragically, my flight was delayed and it was questionable whether or not it would even go out so I bit the bullet and got a rental car for a whopping $300. Driving 10 hours at least guaranteed I’d arrive there. Luckily for me, the rental turned out to be a Charger so I figured I could make up some time.

IMG_0649

Well… I made up some time. Too much time in the officer’s opinion so I had a court date, a Charger, a black face and a smell coming from my person that was questionable at best.

Sobbing, but not at the point of a mental breakdown I pressed on. That is, until Danny and I realized the ball was at 5pm instead of 7pm. Meaning, I wouldn’t have time to shower, style my hair and definitely didn’t have time to pee. At that point a complete breakdown ensued resulting in hysterical crying while chugging 3 Monsters and squeaking out “Walk To Remember” songs between sobs.

Let it be known I drank those Monsters in quick succession at noon and did not step out of the car till 5pm. That my friends is the hand of God performing a miracle on my bladder. PraiseDaLort

I arrived at the event venue at exactly 5pm and rushed to the public bathroom. It was there that my come to Jesus moment happened.

You know… the moment when you’re shaving your armpits in the sink while staring at your eyes that have somehow almost swollen shut from crying and the Commander’s elegant wife sails in wearing her ballgown, professionally done hair and makeup and a look of shock at the creature (me) before her.

At this point you’d think I’d catch a break, but no, after sprinting into the ballroom I heard the door slam shut behind me in the silence and looked up to see every eye on me.

I had dreamed of a grand entrance. This was not it.

My taffeta dress swished uncomfortably loudly as I scurried to the safety of my seat but realized in horror as I slid into the chair that I was seated directly next to the Vice.

Meaning, for the rest of the evening this gentleman would periodically stand up every 5 minutes, call attention to himself (and unfortunately me because of our close proximity) and deliver instructions, speeches or funny monologues. Therein lies the travesty that for the entire evening every eye in the ballroom was redirected to my table and therefore myself. It was a seat of honor that woman might have killed for and I had never wished harder that I’d be swallowed whole.

My mom said, “Christena you’ll just have a very good story to tell from all of this” which seems to be the theme of my life. Sometimes it would be nice to not have so many run-ins with disaster but then there are moments like the ones that happened after the ball.

The one where I looked in my rear view mirror to see my ever-faithful man following me to the airport to return the rental just to make sure I was safe. I had told him to go home, but he knew how exhausted I was. It was the moment when I crawled into his truck in my ballgown and tears poured out of my eyes as I apologized for looking like a troll and he took my face in his hands and said I was the most beautiful girl in the world (even though clearly I did in fact look like a troll).

No those were not the moments I had dreamed of this whole year, but those are the moments that will stay with me for the rest of my life because maybe it isn’t so bad after all that Cinderella was late to the ball.

XOXO,

Christena

P.S. Special thanks to the worlds best mom and dad for supporting me through every disaster I find myself in, especially this one because I called y’all crying for the majority of the day!

One thought on “Why Cinderella Was Late For The Ball

  1. And the prince did not have to go on a search for his Cinderella; she stuck through it, and i’m sure made her prince very proud.

    Like

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