Memories from 8th Grade that remind me why I'm glad it's 2009 and I'm 30-something...
- My pleated-front, skinny-ankle, acid-wash jeans would not be flattering on my current body-type
- Though the yellow and green eye shadow I wore to match my outfit (changing it to blue, pink, purple...to match other outfits) would match my green turtleneck, it wouldn't do much for my complexion
- Gigantic, red, Sally Jesse Rapheal glasses. Thank you, Lord, for contacts.
- Hair permed by my mom was so high maintenance. Now I sleep on wet hair and fluff it up in the morning. I can't be bothered.
- I lived on a corner, very near my Junior High. One day at lunch (we had open campus), a huge group of students began congregating in the street outside my house. I watched from my deck above as two students began to fight in the middle, and then watched in horror as my father ran out of the garage, SHIRTLESS, to grab the two perps and march them up to the school with the whole crowd of students following behind. I asked my mom if she could call school to say I was sick. She said no.
- I'm sure the ribbon routine (you know, the ribbon on a stick that gymnasts gyrate around with) that I had to create and perform alone in front of my gym class (to Amy Grant's "Sing Your Praise to the Lord," by the way) was highly character-building. There's no way in heck you could get me to do that now.
- The slow-dance conundrum. What do I do if a boy asks me to dance? Oh, I hope a boy doesn't ask me to dance! It'd be kind of nice to know a boy would like to dance with me. But, oh my gosh, what would I do if one asked?...When "Love Bites" began to play (I was a child of the 80's...you remember too, don't you??) I always just made a bee-line for the drinking fountain outside of the gym. I would pretty much do the same thing still...if I went to dances.
Well, there you are. Reasons to be glad you're not in Junior High anymore and reasons to be thankful that you are way cooler than me. You're welcome.