First work day back from Thanksgiving Break sucks.
Here’s your super awkward embarrassing story for the day.
Once upon a time I was 12 and in 6th grade… for a whole year… FML.
You’re welcome.
Showing posts with label middle school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label middle school. Show all posts
Monday, November 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Scream... Proof Movies You Thought Were Awesome in Middle School, Not So Much...
Labor Day weekend was amazing. I know a lot of people may say this, but my family is honest to God the greatest ever. We have so much fun together just hanging out, playing cards, eating food, and chatting. I feel like all weekend I was saying to myself, “Oh, that story so needs to be a blog post.” But, of course I didn’t have pen glued to my hand and therefore didn’t write down any of those wonderful ideas. (Getting out of the pool and finding a pen inside would have been way to much work.) So, family member that are reading this, if you remember any of those ideas let me know.
As awesome as the weekend was last night might have been just as great. Driving back into town from the parental unit’s house in San Antonio, I stopped at my local used movie/CD store, Cheepos. I have been hitting up Cheepos weekly for about a month looking for the holy grail of entertainment de Middle School weekend sleepovers, Wes Craven’s Scream.
My first horror movie memory was climbing into my parent’s king size bed with my mom and sister and watching the movie Alien. My dad was out of town and my mother decided it would be fun to have a movie night watching one of her favorite movies with her two daughters. She got us all comfortable will pillows and blankets, and we each had a dish of popcorn. What could be more fun? Oh, and did I mention that I was in kindergarten and my sister was in 4th grade. Yeah, my mother (who don’t get me wrong is amazing) thought it would be a good idea to watch a movie where aliens pop out of people’s stomachs with her 6 year old and 10 year old. We only made it through about 30 minutes and never even saw one alien, and my sister still had nightmares and physically got sick to her stomach.
I started liking horror movies and scary shows when I was in 4th grade. We had just moved back to the States from England and I loved all the cool American TV shows that were creepy and spooky. I watched everything from X Files to Are You Afraid of the Dark on Nickelodeon. But, it wasn’t until 8th grade, when I saw the movie Scream, that I started my love affair with scary movies.
I watched Scream for the first time with my neighborhood friend, Mandy. I say I watched it for the first time, but I really I watched it for the first, second, third, and eighty-fourth time with Mandy. She and I would have sleepovers at each other’s houses every weekend and watch Scream at least twice. As soon as the sun came up over Stu’s blood soaked house and credits started to roll we would get up, rewind the VHS, and play it again. We could quote the whole movie. We did quote the whole movie… all the time. Mandy’s older brother thought we were stupid for liking such a dumb movie, and who knows what our parents thought, but we didn’t care. If it was Friday night we were either on my couch or her movie chairs watching Neve Campbell survive her thoroughly F-ed up boyfriend and his long tongued side kick.
So, I’ve been talking about wanting to watch Scream for over a month, and I finally found it on DVD yesterday. I was like a kid waiting for her parents to get up on Christmas morning. I got home with my prize DVD at 3PM and had to wait hours for it to get dark. (You can’t watch scary movies during the day.) Boyfriend wasn’t quiet as excited as me.
Boyfriend: “Scream?”
Me: “Yes, Scream!”
Boyfriend: “Scream?”
Me: “SCREAM!”
It finally got dark. I turned off all the lights, got me an orange Popsicle, and curled up on the couch with Boyfriend.
Boyfriend: “Hey, that annoying girl who looks like Davis Girl is in this movie.”
Me: “Drew Barrymore, and she doesn’t look anything like Davis Girl.”
(Boyfriend thinks any blonde in any movie or TV show looks like Davis Girl.)
Boyfriend: “Are a lot of people going to die? Who is in the car? Why is she stopping? Is the house going to burn down? I can’t believe she is still holding that phone.”
Me: “Yes, it’s a horror movie. People die. Her parents are in the car coming home. She stopped because she saw her boyfriend tied to a chair with his guts hanging out. I don’t know why she is holding the phone. Now, please hush and watch the movie.”
Boyfriend: “There is too much blood and death.”
Me: “It’s a horror movie and this is only the opening scene.”
The thing is, Scream does kinda suck. I mean I enjoyed watching it because it brought back memories, but I wasn’t scared like I used to be and I didn’t think it was as funny as it used to be. I know that we all grow out of things as we grow up, but this really hit me hard. I used to think Rose McGowan’s Tatum and Matthew Lillard’s Stu were absolutely hilarious. Yeah, not so much anymore. Rose just looks weird trying to be the sweet down to earth girl who wears cloud pajamas and sleeps with a teddy bear. I mean this is the women who went on to star in Jawbreaker and marry Marilyn Manson for crying out loud. And Stu! Stu really pissed me off last night. I remember cracking up to his lines. I remember one night we wrote them all down so we would remember them and have funny inside jokes the next day at school. (For some reason we thought we would be the only ones who had seen Scream.) Turns out his lines suck and all he did, all movie long was make faces and stick his tongue out really far.
When Tatum says, “Stupidity leak!” and hits Stu on the forehead with her lollypop I just thought how gross that is, not “wow high school kids are cool and funny in their relationships.” I mean I know Matthew Lillard didn’t have the greasy bangs Skeet Ulrich sported, but still… ick.
Also Stu’s light one liners like “Peer pressure. I’m far too sensitive.” and “Liver alone.” and “My mom and dad are going to be so mad at me.” ARE NOT FUNNY!
I’m sad. It’s a sad day when happy moments from your childhood die. I mean I watched The Last Unicorn in college and loved it just as much as when I watch it as a kid. I still love The Sandlot and Big Business, but it might be time to retire Scream. RIP.
As awesome as the weekend was last night might have been just as great. Driving back into town from the parental unit’s house in San Antonio, I stopped at my local used movie/CD store, Cheepos. I have been hitting up Cheepos weekly for about a month looking for the holy grail of entertainment de Middle School weekend sleepovers, Wes Craven’s Scream.
My first horror movie memory was climbing into my parent’s king size bed with my mom and sister and watching the movie Alien. My dad was out of town and my mother decided it would be fun to have a movie night watching one of her favorite movies with her two daughters. She got us all comfortable will pillows and blankets, and we each had a dish of popcorn. What could be more fun? Oh, and did I mention that I was in kindergarten and my sister was in 4th grade. Yeah, my mother (who don’t get me wrong is amazing) thought it would be a good idea to watch a movie where aliens pop out of people’s stomachs with her 6 year old and 10 year old. We only made it through about 30 minutes and never even saw one alien, and my sister still had nightmares and physically got sick to her stomach.
I started liking horror movies and scary shows when I was in 4th grade. We had just moved back to the States from England and I loved all the cool American TV shows that were creepy and spooky. I watched everything from X Files to Are You Afraid of the Dark on Nickelodeon. But, it wasn’t until 8th grade, when I saw the movie Scream, that I started my love affair with scary movies.
I watched Scream for the first time with my neighborhood friend, Mandy. I say I watched it for the first time, but I really I watched it for the first, second, third, and eighty-fourth time with Mandy. She and I would have sleepovers at each other’s houses every weekend and watch Scream at least twice. As soon as the sun came up over Stu’s blood soaked house and credits started to roll we would get up, rewind the VHS, and play it again. We could quote the whole movie. We did quote the whole movie… all the time. Mandy’s older brother thought we were stupid for liking such a dumb movie, and who knows what our parents thought, but we didn’t care. If it was Friday night we were either on my couch or her movie chairs watching Neve Campbell survive her thoroughly F-ed up boyfriend and his long tongued side kick.
So, I’ve been talking about wanting to watch Scream for over a month, and I finally found it on DVD yesterday. I was like a kid waiting for her parents to get up on Christmas morning. I got home with my prize DVD at 3PM and had to wait hours for it to get dark. (You can’t watch scary movies during the day.) Boyfriend wasn’t quiet as excited as me.
Boyfriend: “Scream?”
Me: “Yes, Scream!”
Boyfriend: “Scream?”
Me: “SCREAM!”
It finally got dark. I turned off all the lights, got me an orange Popsicle, and curled up on the couch with Boyfriend.
Boyfriend: “Hey, that annoying girl who looks like Davis Girl is in this movie.”
Me: “Drew Barrymore, and she doesn’t look anything like Davis Girl.”
(Boyfriend thinks any blonde in any movie or TV show looks like Davis Girl.)
Boyfriend: “Are a lot of people going to die? Who is in the car? Why is she stopping? Is the house going to burn down? I can’t believe she is still holding that phone.”
Me: “Yes, it’s a horror movie. People die. Her parents are in the car coming home. She stopped because she saw her boyfriend tied to a chair with his guts hanging out. I don’t know why she is holding the phone. Now, please hush and watch the movie.”
Boyfriend: “There is too much blood and death.”
Me: “It’s a horror movie and this is only the opening scene.”
The thing is, Scream does kinda suck. I mean I enjoyed watching it because it brought back memories, but I wasn’t scared like I used to be and I didn’t think it was as funny as it used to be. I know that we all grow out of things as we grow up, but this really hit me hard. I used to think Rose McGowan’s Tatum and Matthew Lillard’s Stu were absolutely hilarious. Yeah, not so much anymore. Rose just looks weird trying to be the sweet down to earth girl who wears cloud pajamas and sleeps with a teddy bear. I mean this is the women who went on to star in Jawbreaker and marry Marilyn Manson for crying out loud. And Stu! Stu really pissed me off last night. I remember cracking up to his lines. I remember one night we wrote them all down so we would remember them and have funny inside jokes the next day at school. (For some reason we thought we would be the only ones who had seen Scream.) Turns out his lines suck and all he did, all movie long was make faces and stick his tongue out really far.
When Tatum says, “Stupidity leak!” and hits Stu on the forehead with her lollypop I just thought how gross that is, not “wow high school kids are cool and funny in their relationships.” I mean I know Matthew Lillard didn’t have the greasy bangs Skeet Ulrich sported, but still… ick.
Also Stu’s light one liners like “Peer pressure. I’m far too sensitive.” and “Liver alone.” and “My mom and dad are going to be so mad at me.” ARE NOT FUNNY!
I’m sad. It’s a sad day when happy moments from your childhood die. I mean I watched The Last Unicorn in college and loved it just as much as when I watch it as a kid. I still love The Sandlot and Big Business, but it might be time to retire Scream. RIP.
Labels:
bad movies,
labor day,
middle school,
mom,
scream,
sister
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Crappy Bands, 8th grade A-Hole, and a Batman Mask...
Random Thoughts…
A couple of days ago I was driving two co-workers and myself to lunch at Subway (Eat Fresh). As I pulled into an empty parking spot I noticed that next to the Sandwich store was a small postal shop. I had two or three letters in my car I needed to mail, so this discovery made me happy. I turned to the co-worker who was riding shot gun and told him to open the center console of my little SUV and pull out the envelope. Turns out the letter I was looking to mail was nowhere to be seen but there was a stack of CDs inside, and which CD happened to be on top of the group??? Creed. Oh, yeah straight out of sophomore year My Own Prison. Both co-workers then spent the entire lunch hour singing in raspy Scott Strap voice. (Yeah, I know his name and didn’t have to look it up.)
So who do y'all think is the band that's all cool and whatnot right now, but in 10 years will embarrass me by being on my iPod???
I did a post few weeks ago about my greatest grudges of all time. The story about Karen pushing me into the big bathroom and then how I got blamed was just long enough to write a blog post about. This one isn’t, but this person is just as much a mortal enemy as evil 1st grade witch, Karen.
Tristan Maldonado. Tristan Maldonado told all the cool people in 8th grade he saw me picking my nose in English class. Okay, here is where we all need to be honest. We have all, this includes you Tristan, picked our nose at some point. Sometimes we don’t have a tissue. Maybe what we thought was just going to be a light nose scratch turns into to something more once your hand gets up there. Whatever the reason everyone has done it. I admit it. I have picked my nose. What I would never, ever, ever do… is pick it in a room full of mean, snobby, 14 year old haters. Middle School is harsh and there is no way in Hell I went anywhere near my nose in the middle of English class you mean insensitive jerk!!! Seriously why would anyone say something like that? I wasn’t exactly part of the popular crowd in 8th grade, but I was not a loser either. I was short, had braces, wore my sister’s clothes all the time (because she left the house before me and came home after me), and in honors classes, but not a loser. (Oh, and now that I remember it… It was Honors English, so he was just as much a nerd as I was.) Then, and this is where you’ll be like “oh, no he didn’t”, my senior year of High School he told Best Friend that he thought I was hot. Yeah, “Oh no he didn’t”!!! You don’t get to think I’m pretty you mean, hateful, jack ass!!! You, sir, are now and forever on my shit list.
Oh and at the wedding Chicago Bridesmaid took this classic…
A couple of days ago I was driving two co-workers and myself to lunch at Subway (Eat Fresh). As I pulled into an empty parking spot I noticed that next to the Sandwich store was a small postal shop. I had two or three letters in my car I needed to mail, so this discovery made me happy. I turned to the co-worker who was riding shot gun and told him to open the center console of my little SUV and pull out the envelope. Turns out the letter I was looking to mail was nowhere to be seen but there was a stack of CDs inside, and which CD happened to be on top of the group??? Creed. Oh, yeah straight out of sophomore year My Own Prison. Both co-workers then spent the entire lunch hour singing in raspy Scott Strap voice. (Yeah, I know his name and didn’t have to look it up.)
So who do y'all think is the band that's all cool and whatnot right now, but in 10 years will embarrass me by being on my iPod???
I did a post few weeks ago about my greatest grudges of all time. The story about Karen pushing me into the big bathroom and then how I got blamed was just long enough to write a blog post about. This one isn’t, but this person is just as much a mortal enemy as evil 1st grade witch, Karen.
Tristan Maldonado. Tristan Maldonado told all the cool people in 8th grade he saw me picking my nose in English class. Okay, here is where we all need to be honest. We have all, this includes you Tristan, picked our nose at some point. Sometimes we don’t have a tissue. Maybe what we thought was just going to be a light nose scratch turns into to something more once your hand gets up there. Whatever the reason everyone has done it. I admit it. I have picked my nose. What I would never, ever, ever do… is pick it in a room full of mean, snobby, 14 year old haters. Middle School is harsh and there is no way in Hell I went anywhere near my nose in the middle of English class you mean insensitive jerk!!! Seriously why would anyone say something like that? I wasn’t exactly part of the popular crowd in 8th grade, but I was not a loser either. I was short, had braces, wore my sister’s clothes all the time (because she left the house before me and came home after me), and in honors classes, but not a loser. (Oh, and now that I remember it… It was Honors English, so he was just as much a nerd as I was.) Then, and this is where you’ll be like “oh, no he didn’t”, my senior year of High School he told Best Friend that he thought I was hot. Yeah, “Oh no he didn’t”!!! You don’t get to think I’m pretty you mean, hateful, jack ass!!! You, sir, are now and forever on my shit list.
Oh and at the wedding Chicago Bridesmaid took this classic…
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Random Thoughts Including Alabama and Shark Week...
Random thoughts…
I lived in Alabama for 10 months when I was in 6th grade and the fashion trend at Prattville Intermediate School was to buy humorous boxer shorts and wear them underneath white, see through track pants. I never really understood why this trend was cool, but I never understood a lot about people from Alabama. My first day of school on the bus ride home we drove through a trailer park with a burning cross in someone’s front yard and the kids on the bus weren’t phased at all. Seriously… Let that sink in… I will never forget that. It will be 2064 and I’ll be flying around in my car still thinking, “I must avoid Alabama today because those rednecks are fucking crazy”. By the time this trend became all the rage, I had learned not to question the freaks but just smile and nod along with them. Now, I never partook in the boxers under track pants trend for one big reason. I could not figure out how to intelligently tell my parents that I needed boxer shorts with glow in the dark smiley faces and athletic pants that you could see though. I rolled ideas around for a good month, but never got up the nerve.
This week is Shark Week. Last night there was a show that taught the viewer how to survive a shark attack. This hour long show didn’t mention the number one way to survive… STAY OUT OF THE MOTHER F-ING WATER!!!
I lived in Alabama for 10 months when I was in 6th grade and the fashion trend at Prattville Intermediate School was to buy humorous boxer shorts and wear them underneath white, see through track pants. I never really understood why this trend was cool, but I never understood a lot about people from Alabama. My first day of school on the bus ride home we drove through a trailer park with a burning cross in someone’s front yard and the kids on the bus weren’t phased at all. Seriously… Let that sink in… I will never forget that. It will be 2064 and I’ll be flying around in my car still thinking, “I must avoid Alabama today because those rednecks are fucking crazy”. By the time this trend became all the rage, I had learned not to question the freaks but just smile and nod along with them. Now, I never partook in the boxers under track pants trend for one big reason. I could not figure out how to intelligently tell my parents that I needed boxer shorts with glow in the dark smiley faces and athletic pants that you could see though. I rolled ideas around for a good month, but never got up the nerve.
This week is Shark Week. Last night there was a show that taught the viewer how to survive a shark attack. This hour long show didn’t mention the number one way to survive… STAY OUT OF THE MOTHER F-ING WATER!!!
Monday, July 19, 2010
How I Manipulated my Best Friend into Becoming My Best Friend...
This story takes me back...
Remember a few days back when I posted the statistic that I moved homes every 1.8 years of my life. (I say statistic, but just like proof reading, math way never my strong point and I never actually took a statistic class, so really I’m just guessing that 1.8 years is a statistic. Wow.. math and English are not my fortes... how did I ever graduate college???) Anyway, all this moving does take a toll on a kid's personal life. By the time we moved to San Antonio I was a pro at starting school, making friendships, and finding a best friend because in a few short months I would need a shoulder to cry on when we found out where we would be off to next. I devised a system. I tested the system. The system worked*. Notice the system starts at “starting school”. We moved to San Antonio in May. School started the end of August. I have always done things my way and when I’m good and ready. My system for making friends would start in August when I started 7th grade at Stinson Middle School and not a moment sooner. I would spend the summer playing Lego's, making magazine collages, and playing on the Internet. I am also a person who enjoys being by herself. The summer was going to be so much fun! Yeah… then my mother kicked me out. She demanded I make friends with the other neighborhood kids. I panicked! These “other kids” we NOT part of my system. Who even knows if they are really kids??? Maybe they are aliens or Martians??? Who was my mother to throw me to the dogs. I just knew I would be eaten alive.
Okay, I know I’m exaggerating. In all reality I knew those kids weren’t from Mars. I was just scared shitless of having to make friends in front of my sister at the neighborhood pool. Sister is older, prettier, and totally had boobs. I shaved my eye brows right down the middle, had a one piece swimsuit from Limited Too, and didn’t know how to dive. On top of everything, I am the most awkward person I know at 25, wanna guess how awkward I was at 12??? I am shuttering just thinking about myself back then. I am awkward. Making friends is awkward. How was I suppose to do this in front of my very non-awkward, didn’t look like a native American, boob having sister???
I made friends and it was one of the most fun summers of my childhood. I hate it when parents are right.
By the time school started in the fall I had a few friends and some of them were even in my grade. I would know people on the first day of school! As much as this excited me, I knew I couldn’t let these kids interfere with my plan, with my system. Yeah they were great for the summer, but it was school time now. I had to stop playing with the fluff that was my summer gang and get down to the goods, a real best friend.
I spotted Best Friend on the first day of school. The good thing about being in mostly advanced classes is that the same kids are usually in every class. Best Friend was in all the honors classes I was ( English, science, and Texas History) along with taking Spanish and she was in Super Honors, Brainier Than You, Will Someone Compare us to Einstein Already math (AKA Algebra 1). I had found my new best friend. Now I just had to jump a few hurdles and get her to realize how fucking awesome I am!!!
Hurdle Number 1: Other friends. Other friends is always the hardest hurdle. They have known target friend longer, they have inside jokes, they are always weary of outsiders trying to prey on their friend. I must terminate all of them. You can’t just try to jump right into the being best friends with their best friend. They will not trust you. And 12 year old girls only like what their friends like. Therefore friends must like me. How do you get a group of 12 year old 7th grade girls to think you are the best thing since those little fake pets that lived inside your key chains… (What were those called Tamogachies? Tomupuchis? Something like that…) Become friends with boys, duh. I did this two ways. First, I became friends with President Boy. He was new to the school as well. He was in all our classes and had quickly made friends with “boyfriends” of the girls I needed to infiltrate. He was cute and funny, and fit perfectly into my plan. With his help I became one of the large group. (the large group is the group made out of the girls who surrounded my future Best Friend and the boys they “dated”) Secondly, who knew listening to my mother (okay being forced at gun point by my mother) to make friends during the summer would help in my evil, master plan of getting Best Friend, but having neighborhood friends proved to help me immensely. Who knew that neighborhood boy N was considered quite the hottie, and just being in his presence would spark an interest in me with the group of girls I needed to befriend.
“You know N Boy?”
“Sure we go way back” (way back to May of that year. A whole 2.5 months.)
“Wow… And he would hang out at your house?”
“Sure, for hours…” (more like he would ring the bell in a group on ten other neighborhood kids and we would all walk to the pool)
“Wanna sit with us at lunch?”
“Um… okay. I think I can do that.” (I’M SO IN!!! The lunchroom invite is like gold in Middle School. Once I got that invite, I had that group of girls just where I wanted them.)
“Muuuuhahahahaha” (Evil laugh)
“Why are you making weird noises?”
“Oh, um… just something caught in my throat… Sorry. (Fuck, Lemon, stop being weird! Quick say something cool…) Have you guys heard about that Titanic movie coming out??”
Hurdle Number 2: Making Best Friend realize I’m the coolest cat in the bunch. Now I’m not trying to toot my own horn or sound conceded, but I think I’m a pretty cool chick. Amateurs would jump right in, talking and insinuating their awesomeness to Best Friend. Huge mistake. One, this would alienate the group of friends I just spent a month trying to infiltrate. And two, I was in Middle school. In Middle school being your own person and all Rico Swave is suicide. The whole point of middle school is to get out of middle school. You can spend all the time you want in high school trying to be different and quirky. In middle school everyone is just trying to survive by blending in. This is where getting into Best Friend’s mind can be tricky. (If only I could break into layers of her dreams and plant an idea in her mind that I would make the perfect best friend… But alas we are in the time of Romeo and Juliet Leo not modern day Leo and that movie hasn’t been made, yet. Bummer.)
Likes, Dislikes, and Background information is crucial. Best Friend likes dancing, gel pens, K Swizz kicks. Best Friend hates mean boys, country music, and using a whole page of paper and still not having the answer to that IMPOSSIBLE algebra problem. Easy and Easier. Done and totally done”ier”. I like dancing, but I’m awkward and therefore you are so much better and could teach me. (Which sadly is true.) I FUCKING LOVE GEL PENS!!! (true. I still do.) They didn’t have K-Swizz tennis shoes in Alabama and honestly they might be the ugliest shoes I’ve ever seen in my life. Seriously they disgust me. Now notice what I did here… First I complemented her because I think dancing is cool and I could learn from her. Secondly we both have a deep love for gel pens, especially the purple glittery ones. Lastly, as much as I look up to her dancing skills, and we have a similar writing utensil passion, I am my own person and don’t want to be just like her. I am different from all her K-Swizz loving minions. She could learn a little something from me. The exact same formula works for her dislikes. She hates mean boys.. “OMG! I hate mean boys, too! What a coincidence!” She doesn’t like country music… “Hey country music isn’t that bad maybe I could let you listen to some of my favorites.” She despises using a whole page of paper and still not having the answer to that IMPOSSIBLE algebra problem… “Hey, don’t feel too bad. I’m practically retarded when it comes to math. Also the answer is always 64.” This strategy along with some common background i.e. military families, older siblings, and deep passion for stickers was all I needed to become top dog on the friend wagon.
Hurdle Number 3: Getting Best Friend to admit I’m her best friend. A 7th grade girl’s mind revolves around one thing and one thing only, boys. The final piece to Best Friend’s heart is boys. Now this is when some people might make a mistake and want to bond over their mutual love of Hanson or Jonathan Taylor Thomas. Amateurs, all of them. While bonding over a mutual infatuation is an easy fix, that is not the way to hook a lifelong best friend. I got that best friend status only when I thought the complete opposite boys were the cutest. Middle school girls are shallow and self conscience, yes even Best Friend and me, and do not want any competition from another female… friends included. This amazingly genius idea, I have to admit, wasn’t mine. It happened completely by accident. She has horrible taste in boys**. I didn’t even have to pretend not to like any of her boyfriends because they were all creeps and kinda full of themselves. And, I never had to pretend I liked the older brother from Home Improvement more than super hunk JTT, because I really did think the older dude was cuter. (Until he did that slicked back ponytail, shave the side of your head look.) We were total best friend soul mates.
“Lemon you are one spectacularly bad ass chick, and you totally understand me. We should be best friends, and do you want to sleep over this weekend?”
“Wow! You want me to sleep over? And best friends? Are you sure… This is totally unexpected…”
*The only time the system didn't work was when we lived in Alabama for 10 months. People in Alabama, even 11 year old girls, are FUCKING INSANE and the system just couldn't handle the crazy racism and "southern belle" thing.
**This statement has applied to almost every boyfriend Best Friend has ever had, and she’s had a whole bunch. I’m not saying she’s slut or anything, but why would I be best friends with an ugly girl. The only exception to this rule is Best Friend’s FiancĂ©. He’s totally a keeper, and the only boyfriend of hers I’ve ever really liked.
Remember a few days back when I posted the statistic that I moved homes every 1.8 years of my life. (I say statistic, but just like proof reading, math way never my strong point and I never actually took a statistic class, so really I’m just guessing that 1.8 years is a statistic. Wow.. math and English are not my fortes... how did I ever graduate college???) Anyway, all this moving does take a toll on a kid's personal life. By the time we moved to San Antonio I was a pro at starting school, making friendships, and finding a best friend because in a few short months I would need a shoulder to cry on when we found out where we would be off to next. I devised a system. I tested the system. The system worked*. Notice the system starts at “starting school”. We moved to San Antonio in May. School started the end of August. I have always done things my way and when I’m good and ready. My system for making friends would start in August when I started 7th grade at Stinson Middle School and not a moment sooner. I would spend the summer playing Lego's, making magazine collages, and playing on the Internet. I am also a person who enjoys being by herself. The summer was going to be so much fun! Yeah… then my mother kicked me out. She demanded I make friends with the other neighborhood kids. I panicked! These “other kids” we NOT part of my system. Who even knows if they are really kids??? Maybe they are aliens or Martians??? Who was my mother to throw me to the dogs. I just knew I would be eaten alive.
Okay, I know I’m exaggerating. In all reality I knew those kids weren’t from Mars. I was just scared shitless of having to make friends in front of my sister at the neighborhood pool. Sister is older, prettier, and totally had boobs. I shaved my eye brows right down the middle, had a one piece swimsuit from Limited Too, and didn’t know how to dive. On top of everything, I am the most awkward person I know at 25, wanna guess how awkward I was at 12??? I am shuttering just thinking about myself back then. I am awkward. Making friends is awkward. How was I suppose to do this in front of my very non-awkward, didn’t look like a native American, boob having sister???
I made friends and it was one of the most fun summers of my childhood. I hate it when parents are right.
By the time school started in the fall I had a few friends and some of them were even in my grade. I would know people on the first day of school! As much as this excited me, I knew I couldn’t let these kids interfere with my plan, with my system. Yeah they were great for the summer, but it was school time now. I had to stop playing with the fluff that was my summer gang and get down to the goods, a real best friend.
I spotted Best Friend on the first day of school. The good thing about being in mostly advanced classes is that the same kids are usually in every class. Best Friend was in all the honors classes I was ( English, science, and Texas History) along with taking Spanish and she was in Super Honors, Brainier Than You, Will Someone Compare us to Einstein Already math (AKA Algebra 1). I had found my new best friend. Now I just had to jump a few hurdles and get her to realize how fucking awesome I am!!!
Hurdle Number 1: Other friends. Other friends is always the hardest hurdle. They have known target friend longer, they have inside jokes, they are always weary of outsiders trying to prey on their friend. I must terminate all of them. You can’t just try to jump right into the being best friends with their best friend. They will not trust you. And 12 year old girls only like what their friends like. Therefore friends must like me. How do you get a group of 12 year old 7th grade girls to think you are the best thing since those little fake pets that lived inside your key chains… (What were those called Tamogachies? Tomupuchis? Something like that…) Become friends with boys, duh. I did this two ways. First, I became friends with President Boy. He was new to the school as well. He was in all our classes and had quickly made friends with “boyfriends” of the girls I needed to infiltrate. He was cute and funny, and fit perfectly into my plan. With his help I became one of the large group. (the large group is the group made out of the girls who surrounded my future Best Friend and the boys they “dated”) Secondly, who knew listening to my mother (okay being forced at gun point by my mother) to make friends during the summer would help in my evil, master plan of getting Best Friend, but having neighborhood friends proved to help me immensely. Who knew that neighborhood boy N was considered quite the hottie, and just being in his presence would spark an interest in me with the group of girls I needed to befriend.
“You know N Boy?”
“Sure we go way back” (way back to May of that year. A whole 2.5 months.)
“Wow… And he would hang out at your house?”
“Sure, for hours…” (more like he would ring the bell in a group on ten other neighborhood kids and we would all walk to the pool)
“Wanna sit with us at lunch?”
“Um… okay. I think I can do that.” (I’M SO IN!!! The lunchroom invite is like gold in Middle School. Once I got that invite, I had that group of girls just where I wanted them.)
“Muuuuhahahahaha” (Evil laugh)
“Why are you making weird noises?”
“Oh, um… just something caught in my throat… Sorry. (Fuck, Lemon, stop being weird! Quick say something cool…) Have you guys heard about that Titanic movie coming out??”
Hurdle Number 2: Making Best Friend realize I’m the coolest cat in the bunch. Now I’m not trying to toot my own horn or sound conceded, but I think I’m a pretty cool chick. Amateurs would jump right in, talking and insinuating their awesomeness to Best Friend. Huge mistake. One, this would alienate the group of friends I just spent a month trying to infiltrate. And two, I was in Middle school. In Middle school being your own person and all Rico Swave is suicide. The whole point of middle school is to get out of middle school. You can spend all the time you want in high school trying to be different and quirky. In middle school everyone is just trying to survive by blending in. This is where getting into Best Friend’s mind can be tricky. (If only I could break into layers of her dreams and plant an idea in her mind that I would make the perfect best friend… But alas we are in the time of Romeo and Juliet Leo not modern day Leo and that movie hasn’t been made, yet. Bummer.)
Likes, Dislikes, and Background information is crucial. Best Friend likes dancing, gel pens, K Swizz kicks. Best Friend hates mean boys, country music, and using a whole page of paper and still not having the answer to that IMPOSSIBLE algebra problem. Easy and Easier. Done and totally done”ier”. I like dancing, but I’m awkward and therefore you are so much better and could teach me. (Which sadly is true.) I FUCKING LOVE GEL PENS!!! (true. I still do.) They didn’t have K-Swizz tennis shoes in Alabama and honestly they might be the ugliest shoes I’ve ever seen in my life. Seriously they disgust me. Now notice what I did here… First I complemented her because I think dancing is cool and I could learn from her. Secondly we both have a deep love for gel pens, especially the purple glittery ones. Lastly, as much as I look up to her dancing skills, and we have a similar writing utensil passion, I am my own person and don’t want to be just like her. I am different from all her K-Swizz loving minions. She could learn a little something from me. The exact same formula works for her dislikes. She hates mean boys.. “OMG! I hate mean boys, too! What a coincidence!” She doesn’t like country music… “Hey country music isn’t that bad maybe I could let you listen to some of my favorites.” She despises using a whole page of paper and still not having the answer to that IMPOSSIBLE algebra problem… “Hey, don’t feel too bad. I’m practically retarded when it comes to math. Also the answer is always 64.” This strategy along with some common background i.e. military families, older siblings, and deep passion for stickers was all I needed to become top dog on the friend wagon.
Hurdle Number 3: Getting Best Friend to admit I’m her best friend. A 7th grade girl’s mind revolves around one thing and one thing only, boys. The final piece to Best Friend’s heart is boys. Now this is when some people might make a mistake and want to bond over their mutual love of Hanson or Jonathan Taylor Thomas. Amateurs, all of them. While bonding over a mutual infatuation is an easy fix, that is not the way to hook a lifelong best friend. I got that best friend status only when I thought the complete opposite boys were the cutest. Middle school girls are shallow and self conscience, yes even Best Friend and me, and do not want any competition from another female… friends included. This amazingly genius idea, I have to admit, wasn’t mine. It happened completely by accident. She has horrible taste in boys**. I didn’t even have to pretend not to like any of her boyfriends because they were all creeps and kinda full of themselves. And, I never had to pretend I liked the older brother from Home Improvement more than super hunk JTT, because I really did think the older dude was cuter. (Until he did that slicked back ponytail, shave the side of your head look.) We were total best friend soul mates.
“Lemon you are one spectacularly bad ass chick, and you totally understand me. We should be best friends, and do you want to sleep over this weekend?”
“Wow! You want me to sleep over? And best friends? Are you sure… This is totally unexpected…”
*The only time the system didn't work was when we lived in Alabama for 10 months. People in Alabama, even 11 year old girls, are FUCKING INSANE and the system just couldn't handle the crazy racism and "southern belle" thing.
**This statement has applied to almost every boyfriend Best Friend has ever had, and she’s had a whole bunch. I’m not saying she’s slut or anything, but why would I be best friends with an ugly girl. The only exception to this rule is Best Friend’s FiancĂ©. He’s totally a keeper, and the only boyfriend of hers I’ve ever really liked.
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