I attended a high school that continued a time-honored tradition. Weeks before a school dance rolled around (Homecoming, Winter Formal, Sadies or Prom) everyone would rush to ask their date and claim the opportunity to escort them to the dance. Only there was a catch—you couldn’t just write, “Hey, do you want to go to the dance with me? Circle Yes or No.” on a sheet of torn notebook paper and pass it across the aisle when the teacher wasn’t looking. You had to come up with some creative, earth-shattering and entirely original way to ask your intended to the dance. Here are some examples:

• Blow up hundreds (and, yes, I mean hundreds) of balloons. Insert a small piece of paper into each balloon before tying them off. Write the crucial question on one piece of paper and insert it into a balloon. Then, write your name on another piece of paper and insert that into the balloon. Fill every other balloon with a misleading piece of paper. Dump the balloons all over your intended’s room. The date must then pop every balloon before figuring out who asked them.

• Dump an entire bag of flour into a bucket with a considerate note to dig through the flour to find out who was asking them to the dance. The trick: don’t really put your name in the flour, drive by an hour later (after your intended date is thoroughly caked in flour) and drop off a bouquet of roses with your name on the little attached card. (Actually, my husband asked a date this way…)

• Leave a gold fish bowl on the doorstep of your intended with a note that says, “Of all the fish in the sea, you’re the one for me…” or something equally as corny. (This one doesn’t really satisfy the creativity or originality qualifications, but it is still used regularly)
There are many more alternatives, but listing them isn’t really the intention of this blog, so I’ll move along.

Anyway, being the rather nerdy, quite and unnoticeable teenager that I was, I never got “properly” asked to a dance. I say properly because I got passed notes, but I never got a bucket of flour on my doorstep (now that I think back on it, I don’t know that it’s quite the traumatizing misfortune I remember—covered in flour doesn’t really sound that fun now).
So today, (and here’s where the point of this all comes in) I came home from work today to a husband with a gleam in his eye. He said, “I saw someone dropping something off in the mail for you…” in that voice that let me know that he was that someone. I went to check the mail (for the second time today) to discover that there was an envelope in there from “My Secret Admirer”. Inside I was requested to go on a date, but I’d have to track down the time and location by following the other clues. In other words, I was requested to go on a scavenger hunt.

I hunted around the house, was stumped for a short while, ran across the street and asked for my prize. Inside a white envelope were two tickets to the Barrister Ball. Apparently, the law school is putting on a formal dinner and dance for the law students on Valentine’s Day weekend. I can now say that I have been “properly” asked to a dance. I just have one question: What in the world should I wear?!?*

All I have to say is, “Isn’t my husband great?” And guess what—he’s taken and you can’t have him! And he’s so mature now, I don’t even have to deal with barrels of flour!

*P.S. I asked my husband, “How formal is formal?” He said, “Well, I’m going to wear a suit.” I said, “Well, that doesn’t really help.” Why is it that one article of clothing can take a man from work to a formal dance to a wedding, but women have to have twenty different outfits (and consequently shoes—not that I’ve entirely convinced my husband of that point) to meet the same needs? Any attire suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

UPDATE: So, I decided to go shopping for a new dress. With amazing luck, I found the perfect dress. Not only was it cute, modest, attractive, and perfectly formal and informal (if you know what I mean), it was also 75% on sale! The dress only cost me $30!!! Can you believe what a good deal that is?!? I knew it was too good of a deal though. I had an incredibly difficult time finding a pair of shoes and accessories to match. After much shopping, and three pairs of shoes later (yes, that’s three pairs, much to Scott’s irritation), I settled on something I thought would work. And it did work. I seemed to fit right in at the dance (except for the fact that I was the only person there wearing sleeves, of course). We had a good time meeting new people, gaping at the scraps of fabric women actually declare formal-ware, and watching people become more and more drunk (and consequently risque) as the night wore on. Here’s some pictures of the people at our table at dance:

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On our way to church we have to cross over the Scioto River. The view is usually lovely. There are beautiful houses all along the river on one side and a public park on the other edge. Both sides are lined with huge trees that look absolutely magnificent during the fall when their leaves are changing colors. Today when we crossed the river it looked frozen and was covered with snow (it’s been very chilly lately). We decided to come back and check it out after church. So, three hours later, we headed down to the public park side and were surprised to find that the river really was frozen (we thought it might just have a thin layer of ice on the top). We tried throwing rocks to break through, but had no luck. We got bigger rocks and threw them with more force—still no luck. The river was surprisingly solid, though we have our doubts about whether it was skate worthy or not. We did enjoy the sound the rocks made as they hit the ice; it was a weird sort of plunking sound. After a few more throws we headed back to the car (it really was rather cold, especially in a dress) and took a scenic route home—the houses around here really are beautiful, even in the cold, gray weather.

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I believe I may have mentioned that Scott bought me a bunch of books for Christmas. One of the books he got me is actually the third book in a series. That turned out to be a good thing because now I’ve found a whole bunch more books to like. In the past week I’ve read the first book: The Secret History of the Pink Carnation, the second book: The Masque of the Black Tulip, and the third book: The Deception of the Emerald Ring. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed them all (minus about one scene per book), but I have to say that the first one is probably my favorite. I just found out that the fourth book comes out on January 31, so I don’t have too long to wait until I can read that. (I’ve already preordered it on Amazon.) They are the perfect mix of Pride and Prejudice, The Scarlet Pimpernel, and Amelia Peabody (all of which I would highly recommend). One of the things I really like about the books is that Lauren Willig (the author) is very witty and well-read. She refers to all sorts of well-known literature from Beowulf to Dante’s Inferno (don’t let that scare you off though, their good even if you don’t know what she’s talking about). If you’re interested, have a good read!

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Yesterday was quite the day. After staying up late to watch the Buckeye’s loose (bummer!), we went to bed, so that I could wake up just a few hours later. At four in the morning I was wide awake and couldn’t sleep a wink. Lately this has been happening to me and I’m incredibly frustrated. Years of conking out as soon as my head hits my pillow and sleeping soundly until by alarm buzzes has me a bit spoiled. So I read, tossed, and attempted to sleep, but had no luck. Needless to say, I was very annoyed when it was time to get up—I had gotten almost no sleep and was dreading the thought of going to work. Seeing as it was our anniversary, I decided to spoil myself a bit and take the day off from work. It was only the second day after Christmas break, but I decided to pull a Pam (from The Office—remember the scene where she says “Every year we get 10 days to take off work. Last year I used mine by January 23”? At least it went something like that…) and declare a snow day for myself.

I spent the day cleaning the house, which was much more enjoyable than it probably sounds (most things are more enjoyable than containing sixth graders in a small classroom all day). I made a lunch and went and joined Scott down at the law school.

Yesterday evening, Scott took me to a very fancy restaurant down in the German section of town. The place was empty (after all it was 5:30 on a Tuesday night) but it was beautiful and the food was amazing. We didn’t take our camera, but here is a picture from the website.

This picture doesn’t really do the inside justice.

Apparently they change the menu every season. We felt like the judges on Iron Chef while eating (although we didn’t have any criticisms for the dishes). Here’s what we ordered off the menu:

Fried Triple Cream Brie with cider-spiced apple and raisin compote and toast points

House Salad with spiced pecans, poached pears, and Gorgonzola vinaigrette

Mustard-rubbed Grilled Lamb Rack with rosemary potato gratin, green beans, and green peppercorn sauce

Traditional Crème Brule with fresh berries

After dinner we heading to see a play Scott learned about from Law School. One of his professors was directing this little local production and they were having a formal dress rehearsal last night that we could attend for free (rather than pay to go to the production on Friday night). The theater was incredibly small and remarkable for two reasons: 1) none of the floors in the entire building are flat; they all slope at a gentle angle, 2) the theater is called The Little Theater Off Broadway. I thought they were implying that they were off the main Broadway (as in New York) but the theater was actually on a road named Broadway. It was all a bit confusing, really. The play was a bit quirky and low budget, we bet had a good time nonetheless.

Overall, it was a wonderful day. I enjoyed spending extra time with Scott and not having to raise my voice all day.

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(Warning: All of you dedicated Buckeye fans may want to skip this entry…)

We knew we were getting close to home when the gate at the Minneapolis airport was distinctively marked by the number of individuals decked out in their Ohio State gear. With the BCS Championship tomorrow, everyone is just a little excited. The Buckeye hysteria became even more obvious when we exited the plane in Columbus and were immediately greeted by banners and posters wishing the Buckeyes good luck. One of the posters hanging from the wall outside the restrooms said, “When we say we’re Buckeyes, it just means were a little nuts.” I thought it was rather clever and incredibly true. All the signboards over the gate check-in counters, which usually display the flight information, read some version of “Go Buckeyes! Beat LSU!” In case we had forgotten during our stay in Arizona, the Buckeye fans are not something to be taken lightly.

P.S. I finished two books today. One I finished on the plane, the other I started and finished at home. I’m afraid I stayed up rather late. What with the late hours I’ve been keeping over the break, the nap I took on the plane, and the time change, I just wasn’t tired until about 2:30 this morning.

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