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 Fiancé. He’s totally a keeper, and the only boyfriend of hers I’ve ever really liked.
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