You Must Be Wondering How the Boy Next Door Turned Out*

April 20, 2005 § 3 Comments

This year is my high school’s 10-year reunion.

Hmmph.  I don’t even keep in touch with anyone from high school.  Yeah, there
are connections made through Friendster and the pathetic attempt to
keep in touch by email, but who are we kidding?  I guess I’m a little curious to find out about the lives of others, but I can’t really understand the effort that people will put forth for it.

I didn’t love high school.  My experience resembles a combination of the absurdity of Freaks and Geeks and the ridiculous angst of My So Called Life much more so than any 90210 rerun.  It started as an innocent attempt of a geek with a few friends experimenting with the "counter-culture."  Ha.  I dated a boy who played guitar in a band, and I swore I would marry him and have his babies while smoking cloves and wearing lots of black.  Then there was the infighting amongst friends, the drama of pushing things to the limit with the boy, and pissing off my parents any chance I got.  And oh god, the crying… I think I cried every day between the ages of 14-16.

I’d kick my own ass back then if I could.

1991:  Start high school.  Do everything with two best friends forever!  Stuck in pathetic 10,000 Maniacs/ REM/ flowy skirt phase.  Like several boys, but to scared to do anything about it.  Transition to Pearl Jam/ Nirvana phase.  Bad, bad hair.

1992:  Do everything with two bff.  Meet first love – a boy with guitar – in chemistry.  Have real first date (he drove – oh my god).  Boy starts band.  Become band girlfriend.  Issues with bff begin.  Ultimatums between boy and bff.  Try to compromise.  Think I’m punk rock.  Join golf team (the irony).  Bad, bad hair.

1993:  Continued drama with bff.  Boy starts new band.  Co-captain of golf team.  Decide high school blows.  Plan to get out early.  Clean up my act, but still have bad, bad hair.

1994:  Break up with bff.  Do dual enrollment at college.  Boy starts at different college, same city.  Love college.  Do well.  Hair gets better.

1995:  Take senior picture.  Speak to no one.  Go back for high school graduation.  Speak to no one.

I can’t say it all wasn’t worth it, though. I learned many things throughout these mishaps.  I learned that first loves aren’t the only loves.  I learned that I really did love learning despite hating school.  I learned that real friendship is based on trust and understanding.  I also learned the need to tweeze my eyebrows.

7745107_87d6837000_o

Lori
Atlanta
UHS Class of ’95
Rollins College BA ’98, MLS ’02
Happily divorced and living in sin
Most likely to never come back.

*The World Is Full of Crashing Bores

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