Meme-ories Pt. 1

This one is kind of long and involved (or at least it has the potential to be) so I'm going to break it up over two days.



We were learning about Columbus and so we put on a little “play”. I played one of the ships and to get to the New World, we sat indian style on the floor and propelled ourselves across the room with our arms. It seems a little weird in hindsight.


A boy liked me and I didn't like boys yet. He asked me to marry him. I told him marriage was yucky. Funny how some things never change.


We learned to print and my teacher told me my handwriting looked like “chicken scratch”. I think it probably still does. Also, at that time I was starting to write with my left hand but I could also use my right pretty well. My teacher said that I needed to use my right hand because left handed people have hard lives. That doesn't make any sense now, but at the time I believed her and now my left hand is useless.


I was still bringing my stuffed beaver, Bucky to school with me and the other kids made fun of me for acting like a “baby”. So I left Bucky at home. Later, I lost Bucky in a hotel room.


I cut my finger open on a cat food can. It was a really bad cut and I had to go to the emergency room and get the tip of my finger sewed on (you can still see the scar). It happened to be my middle finger. I was trying to show the wound to the boy I was sitting next to and for some reason, I put down all my other fingers when I showed it to him, not realising it would look, to other people, that I was flipping him off. A kid named Kenneth was seated on the other side of the room and shouted to the teacher “Jessica's flipping Chad off!!”. I was extremely embarassed, but thankfully didn't get in any real trouble, once I explained to the teacher what was actually happening, and Chad, sweet boy that he was, vouched for me.


I was in 3 different schools during this year. The first school was this “alternative” school. They had this punishment where you had to stand up straight and hold x amount of encyclopedia volumes for a x amount of time, depending on what you were being punished for. It seemed like they were dishing these punishments out for stupid reasons (I finally got nabbed for not cleaning up my space fast enough to start the next activity). Turns out kids started complaining to parents and parents got all up in arms that this was “cruel and unusual” punishment and the school got shut down. My next school that year was another “alternative” school that got shut down for lack of funding. Then I went to public school for 2 months and then we moved.


This was my one full year in public school. At the time I was greatful to get out of there, but now I have no idea which would have been better. All I know is I started puberty during fifth grade and things started getting really horrible. Before this, I was one of the boys. Very tomboy. After this, maybe because of the boobs, they boys didn't want to hang out with me and neither did most of the girls because I didn't like girly things. ANYWAY, what stands out from fifth grade is the fact that I got my first crush on a boy named Derek who was nice to me sometimes. I made the mistake of telling another girl and she immediately told EVERYONE. After that, Derek didn't talk to me either. Although I found out later (in high school) that he did like me but was too embarassed since I wasnt one of the popular kids. I was very careful about keeping crushes to myself for a long time after that. Which is probably why everyone thought I was a lesbian in high school.


New school. Very small private school. I was excited because I could make a fresh start and hopefully get some new friends. I was through trying to be friends with the boys. Things started out fine too until the weather warmed and we started dressing out for gym in shorts. I had hairy legs but hadn't started shaving because my mother said I wasn't old enough. The first day in the locker room, one of the “prettiest” girls pointed at me and said loudly “Ew! When's the last time you shaved?!” Of course, everyone looked at me and said “Ew!” and there was nothing I could do. That night, I stole one of my mom's razers and started shaving.


There was this particularly mean girl named Emily. She loved to go out of her way to be a bitch to me despite the fact that I was always nice to her. She had a birthday party and literally invited everyone in the class apart from me (there were only, like, 10 of us). One of these people was my best friend so I was pretty bummed that I didn't get an invitation. My friend thought maybe it was a mistake so she asked Emily if I could go and Emily said very loudly so that everyone, including the teacher, could hear “Hell no! I don't want that geek at my party!”. She got in trouble for swearing. Ha!


New school once again. The famed Catholic school which I attended through high school. Once again, I was hoping to make a fresh start and fit in, but it just wasn't in the cards. I even went shopping at The Gap and bought, what I thought, was “normal” clothes. But I guess I picked the wrong ones because right away people looked at me weird. I can't think of any particular memory from this year. Just the fact that the realisation hit that not only was it impossible for me to fit in with these people, but that I didn't WANT to fit in with them because they were horrible people. All they cared about were clothes and hair. Also, I was just starting to become aware my political views and how they definitely differed from these other people. How could I be friends with a bunch of right wing assholes? Fuck em.


I went shopping once again over the summer and bought clothes that I liked and felt comfortable in. We had a dress code, and even a uniform, but we didn't have to wear the uniform if we wore clothes that fit within the dress code. No shorts. Only dress pants. No t-shirts. No clothes with printing on them unless they were the name of our school. I managed to find some pretty weird shit that still fell within these guidlines. Also, they didn't say anything about shoes apart from “no sneakers” so I got my first pair of Doc Martens and wore them every day. Even though this was 1992, no one in Virginia had seen these shoes before. They were shocked and I was revelling in freaking them out. Regardless, they still picked on me whenever possible. I was still a little chubby so they had that fodder. We didn't have locks on our lockers because we were on “The Honor System” so I would find mean notes in my locker, and occasionally, dog biscuits.


We took “comparative religion”. I saw my chance. I chose to study Satanism in an attempt to build myself up as a force not to be reckoned with. When the time came for Q & A, hands shot up. “So do you practice Satanism?”. I pleaded the fifth. Even though my nickname was thereafter “Satan”, they didn't fuck with my locker anymore.


I got my first boyfriend. He was a “public school” kid with green hair but he had just graduated from high school. One day, he drove to school in his Bug and we ate lunch together. I got some cool points for that. Even though a bunch of jocks walked by us and yelled “hey, I didn't know it was Halloween!”. Yes, these were a clever lot.


Fun fun fun! I had lots of friends from other schools, so my weekends were always full. My best friend and I skipped class all the time and went to Borders (where she would steal CD's for us). No one really bothered me anymore. I was editor of the yearbook, so I finally got to put a whole bunch of pictures of me and my friends in there and unflattering pictures of people I hated. I was voted “worst dressed” on the senior poll. I revelled in it. And I was happy as a clam because I knew I was graduating, moving to Washington, and I would never have to see any of those fuckheads again. The only thing that sucked was that I finally confessed my love for my long time crush/friend Michael Cross, only to be shot down because he “thought of me as a sister”. Doh!

Tomorrow: Life After High School (As if that even exists:)


Live Well

I definitely consider myself “city folk” so it's easy for me to forget how nice it is to get away from it all as well. The Stabbin' Cabbin promised much and delivered on every level. There were a few outside forces attempting to put a damper on the weekend (Case in point: Redneck cops pulled Dom over TWICE because he was “speeding” through poorly marked “towns”. Visions of Texas Chainsaw Massacre(the original, of course) and various other movies involving homicidal inbred people danced through our heads). But no matter, we made it to the cabin without being roasted like chicken at a gas station. Unfortunately, my cough was/is still acting up so that kept me from staying up late Saturday night to watch the Aurora Borealis with everyone, but I still managed to have a great time and do all KINDS of fun things. Like swim in a lake, explore a burned out mill, hang out on the porch and look at the great view, eat some “brownies”, go swimming again, play games, eat Elyse's veggie kabobs, watch Zoolander, eat Nachos, see turkeys and a mule, ride in the back of a truck, listen to ghost stories, eat more delicious food, drink beer and much much more. It was jampacked with fun but I still felt totally relaxed the whole time. It was really amazing.
Thank you Gene and Gene's family for letting us stay there. Thank you Roxy for having a birthday. Thank you first redneck cop for not giving us a ticket. Fuck you second redneck cops for pulling us over for having liberal stickers on our car and for not driving a truck. Thank you nature for being there. And finally, thank you maniacal butterfly clowns for not eating us. Amen.