Did We All Really Go To The Same School?

I will forever remember that a level-headed chick named Rose saved me from a big ugly faux pas at our upcoming reunion.  I should buy her a red Vespa, or maybe a pony for her kids.  (I always forget that I’m unemployed when imagining myself as a great humanitarian gift-giver.)

The issue at hand: The reunion RSVP included a blank for “High School Memories.”  Not surprisingly, I put all kinds of shit on that form, crazy stuff which in my mind equates to favorite & most memorable.  It would have been printed in the official program if I hadn’t gotten the heads up from my buddy to reconsider.  She let me see what others wrote for comparison’s sake.

Along side theirs, my memories immediately looked like they were written by the senior girl voted “Most Likely To Be Institutionalized.”

Many of them have continued living in the Midwest, stayed true to farm & family, become very involved in charitable activities & church functions.  In other words, they’ve acted like decent Americans.  Meanwhile, I list my hometown on Blogger as Updabutt, USA.

Here’s a little bit of what I wrote, juxtaposed against that written by fellow classmates.  Their comments are written in bright colors & I’ve left mine black to match my humor:

” . . . Majorettes!  We had majorettes!  I don’t think anyone has majorettes anymore.”

“I remember getting into a fight & being drug by the neck all the way to the principal’s office.  I kneed MM & put him in a head lock because he hid my Spanish book first period.  I wasn’t a morning person.”

” . . .My hobbies are cooking, baking, exercise and nutrition.”

I remember “initiation.”  I was forced to push a penny down the sidewalk of Main Street with my nose, which bled as the skin rubbed off.  I remember kicking & fighting like crazy to protect myself from getting thrown into a car & dumped out in a field somewhere, far from home.”

” . . . I’m involved in the Chamber of Commerce, Lion’s Club, Fire & Rescue, and a Moose member.”

I remember SY telling me in second grade, during lunch, to go home and breast feed off my mother.  I didn’t know what in the hell he was talking about.  He was eating spinach & had green stuff on his teeth. 

” . . . Painting the rock by the flag pole . . . a bunch of us going to the mall to get our yellow senior shirts made.  D. kicked a bottle of bubble bath into the fountain.”

I am pleased to remember Mr. C. in English telling BC that if she didn’t shut up he was going to staple her lips to the floor.  (I thought I was being so generous by leaving out the part about her nickname being “Nine Fingers.”)

” . . . Too many to put down in words.  But they are some the best memories I have.”

I remember our quarterback, coming back from a lunch date off campus, sticking his hand in a friend’s face & saying, “Smell my fingers.”

” . . . dancing Saturday Night Fever in P.E.”

I remember girls standing on top of lunch tables chanting “Tight is Right,” which stunned me with its’ weirdness.

” . . .  I really miss those fun times of High School before the real world hit all of us!!  I still play my flute, mostly for church, weddings and Broadway musicals.”

I remember EP leaving a dead rat on my car before school one morning.

” . . . We are very excited as we are preparing to move to the family farm.  Can’t wait to get out to the country.”

I remember TW in health class asking, “If a boy peed on you, could you get pregnant?”  She also wondered out loud whether black people had black bones.  (Here again, I tried to be gracious & left out the part where in 8th grade she led an independent study group in the bathroom & taught us to use orange Kool-Aid mix to make things lickable.  She was clearly Gifted & Talented.) 

” . . . Band trips. Godspell. Carousel. West Side Story. Sleigh Ride. “Get it on.” Pom poms. Guys in tutus.”

I remember the boys coming out of the bathroom in fifth grade telling all the girls that GR was doing something that made me imagine pounding a steak with a wooden mallet or possibly a fist.

” . . . So if we can’t make it, many blessings to you and your families.”

I remember making a female gym teacher cry numerous times & eventually quit.  I remember going up into the stands to blow on the hair of one of the male gym teachers with a very bad combover, uncovering his bald spot.

” . . . Remember those Bic pens that wrote in four colors?  Sometimes I’d write each word in an alternating color.”

I remember getting in trouble during 5th grade for standing on toilets & terrorizing the girl sitting in the next stall.  Always the same girl.

” . . . I have recurring dreams about not being able to get my locker open.”

I remember hideous red & white striped polyester gym suits with a snap closure at the crotch.  I hated stripping to shower.  Plus anti-bacterial foot wash & a grown woman watching over you with a clipboard.

“I have been on 12 mission trips throughout the United States in the past 8 years and I have been so blessed through this service.”

I remember coming in late from lunch hour every single day, just so I didn’t have to sit through the full length of math class.  By the time I left high school I hated math so much that I got a degree in Criminal Justice instead of Psychology, just to avoid taking Statistics.  Tragic.

“Yes, I do keep busy, that’s the question I’m asked the most, “What do you do all day?” I’m very blessed.”

I remember Mrs. H. pointing me out as the person “not to be like” in Home Ec because I ate cake with my fingers.  I still eat with my fingers.  She couldn’t beat me down.

” . . . Great times, good friends, to this day.  How fortunate we were to have grown up where and when we did.”

* * * * *

Yep, I owe Rose big time.