This year's Junior-Senior Banquet was no different from the rest. With the shortage of eligible males on campus, the girls went wild asking boys at random. Dates were secured as far back as the first week of August, and many girls were turned down multiple times. Although the guys liked to pass it off as a male pride issue, we ladies knew better. The real problem was that most of them had never danced with a girl before and were too scared to try now. .

For the seniors, JSB fever began on Friday the 22nd because we were given the privilege of a Night Buzz (a.k.a., an evening outing to the bazaar). A throng of bubbly girls gathered at the school gate straight after school to sign with a dorm parent before rushing down the road that leads away from school and into town. My friend and I were among the first to leave, and our first stop was Chaaya Café, a cozy eatery situated at the entrance to the bazaar. Feasting on fudge-frosted chocolate cake, toasted bagels smothered in butter, soft, airy sugar cookies, and crispy oatmeal bars, we discussed possible gifts for our dates. Chocolate? Too boring. A tie? Too outdated. A CD or DVD? Too pricey. I thought too hard and too deeply until I finally settled on a corny, fun present for my date that I knew he'd enjoy. After draining our mugs of ginger tea, we ran around shopping like madwomen for the next three hours until it was time to head back to dorms with our purchases.

I didn't roll out of bed the next morning until 11:30 a.m. My mother wouldn't have been pleased at all, had she been here. After a late night sleepover, my friend and I had lost our enthusiasm. We couldn't care less about whether or not our dresses would still fit us by 5:00 p.m.; we ordered pizza and feasted away guilt-free in our pajamas. At least a dozen other girls came into my room for some reason or another, and each in turn was shocked to see us lying there. "Aren't you going to get ready?!" they asked, eyes as big as the pepperoni embedded in cheese before us. In between bites, we laughed it off and pointed out that there was plenty of time. .

Somehow, that 'plenty of time' disappeared, and my date was waiting downstairs for me. Fortunately, I'd just put the finishing touches on my up-done hair and understated make up. I struggled into my halter-neck dress, added a splash of perfume, slipped into my shoes, and raced down the stairs, trying to stuff my camera into my clutch, fix my earrings, and appear sophisticated all at once. After running through the formalities, we rode up to school in a hired cab and had individual mug shots taken in the quad. Just when I thought that there couldn't possibly be any more pictures, we were ushered to the Tea Garden, where we had to pose for Class pictures and Advisory Group pictures. I can still feel that awkward plastic grin stuck on my face.

Dinner was served in the Quad. The theme was Havana Nights, but I'm afraid that "Havana" was confused with "Hawaiian." The whole 10th grade waited on us, decked out in beach party gear. Deep-fried prawns and pineapple pieces with cheese and cherries served as appetizers, along with a Tropical Twist fruit punch. The colorful blinking lights, cheerful Beach Boys music, and open-air breezes gave the evening a playful feel, and we moved along to Parker Hall, stuffed up to our necks in Chocolate Coffee Cake. .

The Hawaiian theme had been taken one step further on the dance floor. The ceiling was now a canopy of bright chiffon scarves wreathed with strings of tiny light bulbs. Two paper palm trees swayed behind the band, as we danced on the oak floor strewn with flower petals. Halved coconuts and colorful potted plants lined the stage as Mr. Wildman's band performed live renditions of the Beatles' classics, along with other rock & roll and blues pieces. The couples swing danced and slow danced together, but those without dates weren't lonely at all. Huge linked circles of hopping teenagers jumped around the room, knocking into everyone else and enjoying the havoc they were causing. .

By the end of the dance, only a few couples were left embracing each other. The rest of us had started to tire and were ready to start the eternal descent back to dorms. My date courteously lent me his jacket, and we made small talk with the other people around us. I was hurrying to my room to get him his gift when I realized that I'd forgotten to wrap it. I ended up folding it into his suit coat, and handing it to him with a sheepish grin on my face. "I, um, kind of forgot to wrap it." I muttered, trailing off. Thankfully, he was an old friend who was able to laugh it off. .

Thanks to all the work put in by the sophomores and juniors in the decorations, this year's JSB was yet another roof-raising success, but maybe the next time a class chooses 'Havana Nights,' they'll study their geography first.

Surekha Poelman

Surekha is an intern with the Development Department, writing articles about various aspects of high school life at Woodstock for the website.