i see dead people

As much as I bemoan and bewail the lifestyle adjustment that undoubtedly accompanies med school, I probably will look back one day and count the days in between bouts of energy drinks and late-night study marathons amongst my blessings. Case in point: Where, post-high school, can you relive the experiences of prom and right your previous wrongs? Now before you jump to a conclusion about my promiscuity, let me make a note that I did not get a motel room and procreate on prom night like some high-schoolers may have done. I did, however, don a hideous spandex-jersey number that I bedazzled with rhinestones. Oh, and in undeniable 17 year-old-girl fashion, I topped it off with a tiara and acrylic nails. Oh yes she did.

As much as I try to forget the memory of my previous fashion woes, the proof is in the pictures (some of which I am sure are floating around ready to create undue drama for my unborn 15 year-old daughter who will swear her mother is a disgraceful embarrassment…a picture that will instill much fear and motivation to age gracefully…a picture that I, for reasons that include self dignity, will not reproduce here). So you must know how exciting it is to get a second chance to do it all over again. With 24 years under my belt, I now believe I have accumulated the wisdom and sense, and most importantly, the funds to execute a prom vision that will, hopefully, transcend a lifetime of fashion trends.

Ladies and Gents, I present to you LSU- School of Medicine - Class of 2012’s CADAVER BALL.


Dress by Kay Unger. I knew two things before deciding on this dress. 1.) No shiny quintessential prom dresses. 2.) I want asymmetrical.
My friend Diane noted that the dress is reminiscent of J Lo, back in the pre-Marc Antony days. Regardless of whether or not this is accurate, I do have to insist that my date for the night veered much more on the handsome end of the spectrum than Ms. Lopez’ husband.


Tux by Calvin Klein. Shoes by Vans.

The ball was held in the Grand Ball Room of the Ritz Carlton and we wasted no time getting acquainted with our club-level suite before heading to dinner. Ah, yes…I did say a suite. I am, in fact, an adult now. Getting inebriated at a dance and initiating sleepovers are not above my now promiscuous tendencies. Got to keep it classy though….hence, the Ritz.

The setting of the hotel suite was so conducive to channeling an old Hollywood feel that I did just that. For one night and one night only, I was Grace Kelly and my boyfriend was (whatever your pick) the flavor-of-the-month arm accessory.






View from the backside: it’s understated yet sweet but all the while striking. I felt this burning desire to rudely turn my back to anyone I was engaged in conversation with so they, too, could appreciate this posterior aspect. And I’m sure after a couple glasses of wine I did just that. My apologies.


Vintage shrug - eBay. Clutch - Chanel. Jewelry - borrowed from Mother.
As much as I love that clutch, I do have to admit that there was much hesitation about it originally. You see, I saw it on Paris Hilton years ago and loved it. And although I refused to do anything that could be remotely misconstrued as emulating Ms. Hilton (plus that hefty price tag was no joke), I eventually caved. It’s now a staple in my closet.



Our pre-ball festivities began at dinner - Palace Café of the Brennan family on Canal St. A fun, lively atmosphere that didn’t make us feel awkward in our ball attire. The food, however, was standard.


Andouille crusted fish with an aioli sauce. I found a few scales on mine but it was nothing I was going to fault them with being that I’ve had numerous experiences here that were sans fish scales. Mistakes happen. (I also keep returning in hopes that luck will bring me that lobster w/mac & cheese drizzled with truffle oil that I once had on their seasonal lunch menu.)


Mini muffalettas. Pretty much a New Orleans classic. Get some in your life.

As for the rest of the evening, it was lovely. Great atmosphere, great people. The band was surprisingly upbeat. The drinks…well, what can you possibly find wrong with a premium open bar? Except, of course, the long lines?

Medical school sure does have its perks.