Nostalgia via Camera Phone

Something came over me tonight — I’m not really sure what — but I pulled out an old scrapbook from high school.

I suppose because my high school reunion is coming up next month. Ten years, man. I thought I would feel older by now… I surely thought my life would be different. Ten years ago, I pictured my now-self married with a few children. That’s it… That’s all I had my eyes set on… Career? Pfft, who needs a career when you can just get a husband!?

Seriously. It’s crazy how things change… How time changes you.

I’m digging through my history, culling my brain for memories of things to write about. There’s heaps and heaps of stories there, I’m sure of it… But it is going to take a little bit to get the memories jogging. This is an exercise in jogging the memories.

So forgive me, friends. Because I literally just took these pictures of pictures with my camera phone.

The scrapbook.

Yep. Blonde… And a third baseman. I remember feeling SO fat back in high school… If I could, I’d go back in time and kick myself in the cunt because, seriously? Nothin’ but a hard, tan body. Did you know I was an athlete? Truth. I played and lettered in softball, soccer and basketball in high school.

Junior year homecoming and SO in lurrrrve. This joker would, a few years later, pummel me in the head with his “ugly stick” which was really just a shovel handle.

There’s a story there, but I still stand by my position: if you grab my puppy by the neck and throw him across the room, there will be hell to pay. What I wouldn’t give to have THAT on video because I remember like, drug-induced rage-rage-rage and then THUNK and me hitting the concrete like a fucking ragdoll.

This is (was?) Chris. We were in DECA Senior year together. DECA was basically the Senior student’s answer to “I want to leave school early because I don’t need to take six classes this year.” We “worked” in the school store for one class period a day and by worked, I mean we sucked on the helium tank and went to the vending machine. We sat on our desks and talked and totally goofed off and would play Sim City on the computers. Of course, Ms. Schultz, our teacher, was fired after that year because seriously… We didn’t do shit.

Chris was one of my best guy friends senior year. I really miss those days when you could have REAL guy friends and not the adult-version of guy friends where they’re either a) trying to figure out a way into your pants or b) acquaintances. Where did all my guy friends go??

Another picture from DECA class. This was spirit week and, doye, Hawaiian Day. I’m standing on a desk in his picture. Not pictured, Toga Day which, as a high school theme for spirit week is kind of hilarious. I mean, says ‘high school’ more than TOGA! TOGA! TOGA!

Evidence that some things just ARE and will always BE. I’m not sure where this dress came from or the wig for that matter, but I’m pretty sure this was at summer church camp. I think this might’ve even been the year that I was a camp counselor — believe it, kids.

There are for SURE some stories to be written about camp… The one boy from Boston that I had such a crush on with the deliciously thick accent. He gave me his hat to wear that week at camp and it was such a romantic gesture at the time. Or maybe the time that I fell off the top bunk and banged around like a pinball between my bunk and the one next to me and then landing with a THUD on the floor — still DEAD asleep. Or what about that summer when I was in love with Travis and we held hands (a BIIIIIG no-no at the time) during the camp screening of The Lion King.

Another one with the future-head-cracker at Senior Prom. Yes, I am wearing black satin gloves up to my elbows. No, I didn’t have any clue how fucking hot they were back then, I  just thought they were classy. You could see my tattoo in this dress. And the dress? There’s something to be written there as well. My hair in this picture? Amazing.

There’s also the infamous “Night of Temptation” that occurred on prom night. We were all so sinful and you know, held hands — even CARESSED hands! I remember how fucking turned on I was from hand-holding back then and also how much fucking TROUBLE we got into once the leader-types found out at church. The SHAME!

Graduation Trip to Destin, Florida. Seriously? Would look at that fucking body? What the HELL was I thinking? We had to be chaperoned this trip which was hilarious because the worst possible thing that we might have gotten ourselves into was flirting with boys in jeeps. We had a thing for boys in jeeps back then.

Oh, the awkward dates to dances with boys that I had no interest in… We weren’t allowed to date anyone that didn’t go to our church, growing up. And even if you REALLY liked somebody, you weren’t allowed to be their girlfriend because clearly, at our age, we weren’t ready for that level of commitment. So instead, we had to go on dates with whoever asked us out and that meant even to their high school’s formal dances. Talk about awkward and forced. I went to two or three formals with this guy and I probably exchanged more words with him when he asked me to go with him than when we were actually at these dances. It wasn’t until my senior year of high school that the topic of turning someone down for a date even came up and even then, you had to have a REAL good reason for it.

Oof. The dates I went on.