dressy caz ples

"Are you guys having a killer time?"

This weekend was the ISSTE maturitni ples, which, if you haven't been following the blog over the past few years, is like Senior Prom, only taken to the next level and hosted in the Czech Republic. I'd been looking forward to seeing former students and colleagues for months--and I couldn't feel prouder of the students I left last year who are now on their way to graduation. They've still got a lot of work to do, but this (for the most part) was a well-deserved celebration.

But this was a really different ples in another way, too. Friday afternoon Chrissy and I made it all the way from our apartment to the bus station in Prague before we realized that we had forgotten to grab our ples duds---my suit, her gown---from the closet, where they hung all ready to go. By then it was too late. So I went to ples by myself, dressed to kill in my maroon sweater and teacher-corduroy pants.

I almost didn't make it past the bouncer (plesi have bouncers? well, I know now), but a student rescued me ("He is a teacher. It is okay.") After that I was a bit self-conscious over all, but as one former student reassured me, "It is how I remember you."