I Was a Cheerleader In High School: Hear Me Out Before You Judge...

Cheerleaders.

What’s your opinion of them?

I was a cheerleader in high school for a year and a half. Even now, when I tell people this I can see the judgmental wheels rolling in their heads because whether it’s good or bad everyone has some preconceived notions about what kind of person picks up the Pom-Poms.

It all really started at the end of 8th grade. I was ecstatic because instead of moving (like we thought we would have to) my dad was able to stay in San Antonio for one more year. At that time in my life, being 14, a year seemed like an eternity. Learning that I would be able to go to high school with Best Friend and all my other middle school buddies was the first time in my life I cried out of joy. And then, for the 2 millionth time, I winced in my awkward, early teenage skin when Best Friend decided I simply must join Pep Squad with her.

In the my high school in San Antonio anyone who wanted to tryout for cheerleading or dance team had to first complete a year of pep squad. This means that 250 9th grade girls all signed up to spend an entire year in Hell, just so they have the opportunity to then move up the social totem pole to Cheerleader or Dance Team… (dancer?). Now, there was absolutely no point for me to subject myself to the Year of Hell called Pep Squad. I knew I would be moving at the end of my freshmen year, so I wouldn’t even be around to try out for Dance Team. (Yeah, Dance Team because no way was I going to be a cheerleader.) But, Best Friend really wanted me to be on Pep Squad with her, because she knew at the end of the year she could practically walk onto Dance Team, so I did it. I wore the stupid Day Uniform to school (a cheerleading outfit with a really long skirt). I “danced” on the football field during half time. And by “dance” I mean I moved my arms very slowly and did like 1000 ball changes because the chorography couldn’t be too challenging… meaning 3 year old had to be able to do it. I put the bows in my hair and made the spirit gifts and smiled ALL THE FUCKING TIME, because I liked my Best Friend. Oh, and yeah… SOMETIMES, it was fun…

Just after I completed my freshmen year, pep squad and all, is when we moved to Germany and I was faced with the challenge of meeting people and making friends once again. Adding to my system, which had been devised and modified over the years, I decided that a great way to make friends would be to tryout for a sports team. My options were Volleyball, Tennis, and Cheerleading. Volleyball was immediately out. I couldn’t serve the ball over the net to save my life. So, I was left to tennis and cheerleading. I came to the conclusion that either would do. Honestly, I couldn’t have cared less which team I made as long as I made some team. Cheerleading tryouts were first. If I didn’t make the squad I would move on to tennis.

Tryouts were… um… interesting. I went to an American School on the military base we were stationed at. This means that 50% of my school left at the end of the year and at the beginning of the school year 50% of the school was new. Tryouts went a big mix of cheerleaders from the previous year, new students who used to be cheerleaders at their school back in the states, girls desperate to make the team this go around, and me who was just trying to strike up conversation with anyone who looked remotely nice and normal.

Girl Number 1: “Is it high V, low V, fist pump, raw?”

Girl Number 2: “No, I think it’s low V, high V, touchdown, go.”

Girl number 1: (addressing me) “Is the end a raw or a go?”

Me: “What? I don’t know? So… Where are y’all from?”

Girl Number 2: “What? Um, Virginia. So you weren’t paying attention to the ending?”

Me: “Nah, just do a kick and call it a day. So, what kind of movies do you like?”

Girl Number 2: “Yeah, I’m going to go over there now…”

Girl Number 1: “Oh, I think Girl number 2 just called my name. Later.”

Me: “Wait! I like all kinds… of…. movies… They are so not listening anymore. And now I’m talking to myself. Way to try and look cool Lemon Lady.”

Then I actually put my Pep Squad sharp arms to use and my years of just randomly stretching and sitting in the splits and I made the JV Cheerleading Squad.

Turns out being a cheerleader isn’t really hard. All you have to do is remember cheers, smile, and be okay with girls throwing you in the air or throwing other girls in the air. I made friends. None of them turned out to be the best friend I was looking for, but they were at least nice (to begin with) and I had people to eat lunch with and hang out with on the weekends.

What was hard was dealing with other people who resented me being a cheerleader. My school wasn’t big and rich so we only had one uniform (compared to my school in Texas where the cheerleaders had like 6) and we didn’t have T-shirts and sweatshirts and whatnot to wear to school on game days. All the football player wore their jerseys on game days so our coach made us wear our uniforms. Okay, honestly the very first game I was excited to spend the day wearing my uniform. I had tried out and made the team and hell yeah I wanted to walk the halls of Ramstein High School being proud of my accomplishments. Then, being we living in GERMANY, it got cold as shit and wearing a short skirt and sleeveless top was not all that fun anymore. I repeat none of us wanted to wear that damn skirt to school when it was snowing!

I will never forget the next conversation that happened on a very cold Friday while I was wearing my uniform to school because we had a football game the next day. Again, it was freezing and I was super cold and not in the mood to take shit from anyone, especially super annoying, upper classmen who thought they knew everything, in my computer class. I remember getting to class a little early and taking my seat at my assigned computer, waiting for Simon to get there and sit next to me and start up a conversation about Destiny’s Child. (I mean come on! Make fun of me for that! Make fun of me for the endless conversations we would have about Kelly Roland and the other chick Michelle and her awesomely bad solo in Survivor!) So, I’m sitting there waiting for class to start and in walks Upper Classman Mean Girl. She walks right by me, stops, then turns back around, rolls her eyes and says, “God. Every year you people have to wear your skirts shorter and shorter.”

Here’s what I should have said, “Oh, I’m sorry is the fact that I’m wearing something other than the old ratty College sweatshirt you’re wearing offending you? Maybe, before you start making people feel horrible about themselves for wearing something they don’t even want to be wearing, you should get your facts straight. You see it’s impossible for these skirts to be getting shorter year after year because they are the same F-ing skirts cheerleaders have been wearing year after year at this school (seriously you can Google my high school’s website and see pictures of cheerleader still wearing those same skirts). So no, the skirts aren’t shrinking and I’m sorry if you think you can see too much of my leg in them. Why don’t you take your condescending complaint up with my coach, Coach Meadows. Yeah, her. The meanest, most crazy women alive! You think I like walking to school in a short skirt when it’s 20 degrees outside? And, I like really walk to school… I don’t live in one of those buildings just on the other side of the football field, I live in Colonel’s housing way over by the BX! Yeah, I had to wear this dumb uniform while I walked a mile to school in 20 degree weather! (I’m sure it was uphill both ways, too.) So you and your wannabe Yale sweatshirt, “don’t I look nerdy but cool nerdy” glasses, and bad attitude can suck it!!!”

Here’s what I really said, “Yeah, it’s not really all that fun wearing this.”

God, I wish I could go back in time.

I tried out again for winter cheerleading and made varsity (because one of the varsity girls didn’t try out) and that was fun. Then the next year, my junior year, I cheered for football and then stopped. I realized while I was standing on the track during a football game, doing the same boring moves over and over again, that oh yeah I already have friends. I don’t have to do this anymore. So I stopped.

Things I learned while a cheerleader…

If you’re a flier (like I was) always shave your legs, because girls don’t like holding onto prickly ankles.

My coach never wore underwear and had false teeth. Both things we learned during our trip to England for a football game. We all wanted to steal her teeth during the night, but we were all way to scared of her.

If you lie down on your stomach and grab your ankles with your hands this helps your voice so that you are not to high pitch and annoying.

Running five miles two times a week and jumping A LOT makes your legs AMAZING!

Cheerleaders are not all whores, as I found out on the way to Heidelberg.

You can’t iron your cheerleading uniform on the highest setting or the heat will literally burn your skirt. (I really hope my skirt with the iron marks on the right hand side is still being worn today and still shows signs of the abuse I did to it with my mother’s iron.)

Always, Always, Always put Lemon Lady in the back of any dances. Even better if you can put a really tall girl in front of her.(Yeah, I’m a horrible dancer with little to no rhythm.)

Vaseline will not cure the black eye you will inevitably get when trying a new stunt and your bases decide to catch you with their fists.

You will have back pain for the rest of your life when you fall on the basketball court when they don’t catch you at all. Thanks Girls.

Introducing My New Friend and Some Thoughts on High School...

I know I've written several times on my blog about how appreciative I am of everyone’s kind words about my writing. I know it sounds silly, but I feel like I can really be myself when I sit behind my computer and type out my thoughts, as crazy as they sometimes are.

I feel like I’ve had a hard time expressing who I am since I was a senior in high school. It was when I had just moved back to San Antonio from Germany and I quickly understood that I was different. I had been places and seen things and known people and been in situations that not a one of the 3500 people I went to school with understood. It made me incredibly lonely. The feeling was not of not having friends or of leaving behind a boy friend or a loved one, but of being around perfectly normal people (some of them being my very best friends still today) and knowing that no matter how hard I try to put certain things into words, I can never find the right ones to explain what it is like to grow up (because I believe I really did grow up in those two years in Germany) across an ocean. When I tried talking about it, about my life and experience, people quickly dismissed me. They either didn’t care to listen, didn’t know how to listen, were bored, or were jealous. At that point in my life, I don’t think I was strong enough know that the people who mattered in my life would listen and try to understand and I shouldn’t worry about everyone else. But I couldn’t comprehend that idea when I was eighteen so I just didn’t say much to anyone about how I really felt about anything. For a whole year I just buzzed along not saying much at all. I didn’t want to talk about the places I had been and the different experience I had seen because I thought people would think I was bragging and full of myself.

This feeling of, “am I saying too much”, this feeling of, “should I stop talking about myself” had haunted me ever since. As crazy as I can be sometimes, as hyper as I can be sometimes, I think of myself as a pretty reserved person. I’m an introvert. I like being by myself and I like thinking my thoughts and keeping them to myself. I’m used to this and it is easy for me. At work, I spend a whole lot of my day listening to other people talk about their lives and I’m okay with this.

The best part of the past three month and writing this blog has been slowly letting the idea that people will just think I’m always talking about myself or I’m bragging or I’m full of myself slip out the window. I’m learning that not only do people value what I have to say, but they look forward to hearing it. At Best Friend’s wedding so many people thanked me for making them laugh. I have gotten comments from people I don’t even know that are positive and that urge me to keep up the good work. And one other thing has happened. I feel like I’ve made a friend.

Making a friend is a big deal for me. You all read about how I forced Best Friend into her actually being my best friend. I will be the first person to admit that when I get married my family will greatly outnumber the number of friends in attendance. I just don’t have a lot of friends. When I started hanging out with LSU Friend a few years ago I embarrassed myself by telling her that she was my only friend. You see I have a whole lot of acquaintances (work friends, Boyfriend’s friends, and other random people I know… about 99 percent of my Facebook friends) and I have a few Best Friends… and that’s it. Davis Girl, Best Friend, Boy Friend, and I would probably rank LSU Friend in this list as well now, are my only real friends. (This list doesn’t include my family that I’m really close to like Sister, Boy Friend’s Sister, and Awesome Cousin.) I have come to terms with the fact that I’m just not a very popular person. It’s all good.

Introducing my new friend and long time LemonsLemonsLemons reader… A

(Yes, A. Yes, I know it’s very Gossip Girl. Get over it.)

This is A. (Well, A in 2001)

Things from high school I know about A…

I met A in high school in Germany. She was year ahead of me and I’m not going to lie she kinda annoyed me. Not because I had ever met her, but because her name is very similar to my own. Okay I don’t use names on this blog so bare with me. Imagine you have an unpopular name… like really unpopular and old fashion and you are used to no one you know having that name. Example, Gertrude. Now imagine being in school a year behind someone with a name very similar to yours, like Bertrude. It sounds very much like your name and she had all the same teachers you have this year last year and she trained them all to say Bertrude, but Bertrude isn’t your name it’s Gertrude. So, all year long you are correcting your teachers reminding them that your name is with a B and not a G!

Besides the name connection, I then learned about A from this guy in my sophomore year English class. He just so happened to be dating A, and for some reason he would sit in the back of class with me and tell me all about their relationship. One specific detail, which I won’t mention because like I said A in my new friend and her co-workers might be reading this and I’m not quite sure that boy wasn’t just making it up, was extremely graphic and vivid.

Yup, so that’s what I knew about A. Her name pissed me off and her boyfriend was kinda obnoxious.

(Oh, and I’m like 85% sure we had economics together when I was a junior and she was senior, but really the only thing I remember from that class was when we had to give a presentation to the class about a make believe product we were marketing and I gave my presentation and immediately after ran straight to the bathroom and threw up like crazy because I was really sick and I shouldn’t have eaten Popeyes for lunch.)

Thing I now know about A…

She likes to cook.

She doesn’t like that she can’t get good breakfast tacos on the east coast and wishes I wouldn’t write about them so much.

She is engaged and getting married on the beach… in way awesome shoes and maybe a dress, but she hasn’t found that yet.

She just moved into a new house and got away from some really crazy loud neighbors who drove her insane.

She has a lot going on on her Facebook page including liking Survivor (awesome), Lady Gaga (even more awesome), and On The Road (the most awesome).

I feel bad because I don’t know much else about her. So I propose a few questions for new friend A.

1. Besides Germany, where else did you live?

2. If you could be any tree what tree would you be and why? (Bonus point for knowing what movie that is from)

3. Quick name you future children in 10 seconds or less!

4. Deaf for the rest of your life, or blind? Which would you pick? (and yes you have to pick)

5. Do you think Tom Cruise has a middle tooth?

I also propose a few scenarios and multiple choice questions…

1. If you are traveling through life at a normal speed and then all of a sudden you reconnect with someone from your past (let’s call her Gertrude) and she turns out to be your long lost best friend, how long will it take you to get to Austin to hang out?

2. “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry I could not travel both…” When you read these words do you think
A. Robert Frost I remember him from 9th grade.
B. Robert Frost, but not his best work.
C. That’s Robert Frost! That idiot I used to date passed that off as his own work!
D. I fucking hate Robert Frost.

3. In first grade you thought…
A. Boys are icky
B. Boys are cute
C. Girls are cute
D. Girls throw you in the big bathroom stalls

4. If your friend called you in the middle of the night letting you know that she and 20 other people were in the middle of a field about to sacrifice a baby lamb as part of a cult ritual that was very important to them, but she forgot her lamb killing knife at her house, you would go break into her house and bring her the knife?

Although I propose these questions to A and I expect to get them back soon and fully analyze them, please anyone feel free to answer as well.