Random acts of stupid

There are things that you can do as a teenager that you could never ever get away with as an adult.  You just couldn't.  In fact some things that are extremely hilarious as a teenager could get your butt locked up in jail as an adult.  Plus some of these things are down right creepy if you were to try them past the age of 18 or so. 

For example, we had a guy our senior year, right in the middle of the day, run across the campus buck naked, with nothing on but some shoes and a ski mask.  I remember it really well, because I was in Physics class, and we were doing a project outside, and we NEVER got to do anything fun in that physics class.  Our teacher was pretty old, a real stickler for the rules, and was really, really boring.  I tried in that class really hard, I did, but I managed to eek by with a D, and I was an honor student!  Member of the National Honors Society!  I was going to school for Pre Veterinarian Medicine at Ohio University in the Fall.  But stupid Physics was killing me!  It also didn't help that I was having a major case of senior-itus.  Anyway,  we were outside actually doing a fun, hands on activity.  People were outside for post lunch socializing, so it was pretty loud out there.  All of a sudden I hear a roar of laughter, start from one end of the campus. It traveled up to the middle, where we were, and then I saw him.  Mr. Happy, waggin in the wind as he ran pell mell past us, and

into the adjacent parking lot, hop into a waiting car, and speed away.  Hilarious!!!!  Now, I will say, he didn't actually get away with it per say.  He had to miss walking at graduation, but it was epic and something that most of our graduating class still talks about.  Could you imagine doing that in your mid 30's?  Just sitting in a board meeting, and all of a sudden a naked guy comes running down the hall past the windows of the room you are in, in a ski mask?  Not necessarily hilarious, and could be potentially terrifying!

Another thing, house parties.  A friend of mine had a house party when his parents were away one

weekend.  So his older brother bought us a bunch of beer and had us all over.   There was a ton of us!  And we were all hammered!  Spilling stuff, dropping food, leaving out garbage, messing with stuff in the house we probably shouldn't have been touching.  Could you imagine having a giant party now, at almost 40, and it being like that?  Oh my gosh!  I would freak the freak out on people!  "What the hell Senior Fernando???  Why would you spill wine on my carpet and not clean it up or tell me??  Quit messing with those vases Genevieve!  The Admiral and I got those on our honeymoon!  They are antiques!  Oh my gosh you guys!  Leave the dog alone!  He is old, blind, deaf and doesn't appreciate wearing a bra!"  I would not be able to enjoy the party, because I would be the party police.  Plus, if my friends were douchey enough to act like that, I probably wouldn't be friends with them anymore.

Then there were the endless high school sports games we attended.  We didn't go really to support our

team.  I mean we did, but we were there to support our team, and flirt with the opposite sex, and run around with our friends, and gossip, and start fights, and watch the fights that were started, and eat the crappy food that was there.  (mmmmmm, nachos.  I miss the nachos.)  Could you imagine now, in your mid 30's, going to every single game, rain or shine, and acting like that again.  I can picture it now.  Going to my son's football game, and starting a rumor about one of the other moms, her finding out about it, and screaming across the bleachers, "Yo, Tiffany!  Meet me under the bleachers in 10 minutes.  I am gonna kick your ass!"  And me yelling back "Whatever beeeyoch!  It'son!"  Do you know how many kinds of police would be called?  How many lawyer

fees would be involved?  Plus I shudder to think of what the PTO would think of me showing up with a shiner, and saying "You should see the other guy."

 Plus I don't even like going to every one of my son's games when he is in sports.  It was all I could do to get through the 6 weeks of flag football he was in last spring.  If it was raining, I would look mournfully at the Admiral, "Oh, there is no way I can take the little ones out in this, tell Your Royal Highness good luck, and I love him!"  But in high school, every. single. game.  Well, it also may have had something to do with me being in the band. 

And finally, we had a Friday  night tradition, where after the game, those of us in the band would all go out and toilet paper each others houses.  It didn't matter if we did or didn't' like you, we would TP the crap out of your house. Probably, if we liked you, we would  do an even better job.  At 9:30, we would return to the band room, disrobe of our uniforms, drop off our instruments, and (if you could drive) would gather as many people as possible into your car, and head to Meijer, or Kroger, or wherever, and buy as much cheap toilet paper as we could.  Again, could you imagine trying to do this now????  What the heck would the cashier think?  I would probably say something like,   "Sorry, we all just ate a lot of Mexican food.  Need to be prepared!"  Plus, I can't imagine going over to my friend's house that lives two streets over, and in the middle of the night, creeping outside of her house, hoping she won't see me, as I defile her house with bathroom tissue.  Not to mention, all of the cash I wasted.  Do you realize how much TP costs now a days???  Good Lord, I could get a mani pedi, and a massage with the amount of money I spent on a typical friday night. 

So, Moral of this story:
Stupid things + Teenager = Funny and good memories

Stupid things + adult =  Stalker/creeper behaviors, and jail time.

Hola, commo esta?

I was feeling all nostalgic today for some reason.  So while I had the kids in the basement doing some much needed screaming and running around time (not quite warm enough to go outside until this afternoon), I came upon my high school yearbook. 

This year is my graduating class's 20th high school reunion.  Oh. My. God. 

How the hell am I old enough to be out of high school for 20 years?  I mean, I can remember like it was yesterday going to high school for the first time, on my first day.  See, I was lucky (or maybe not, I dunno, depends on who you talk to), I was in marching band.  So we spent two whole weeks at our high school for band camp and rehersals, and I got to know the lay of the land pretty well.  We had a campus style high school,  we had different buildings for different classes, much like a mini college campus.  It was nice because on nice days, we would get to be outside for a little between each class. Unfortunately I also live in Ohio, and we also had a crapload of rainy, icy, snowy, cold, and humid days to walk to class in.  But I digress.  The benefit of the campus style school was that it afforded us the opportunity to see EVERYONE at some point in the day.  There was something like 400 or so kids in my gradating class, I think more, but I can't remember.  I just remember it was a lot.

Anyway, I was able to scout out all of the buildings, and pretty much know where everything was, so on my first day of school, I was totally awesome when it came time to go to my classes.  Or at least I thought I was.  I found my first three classes fine.  Then it was time to go to my french class. 

I walk in and sit down.  I didn't know anyone in there, which with the size of the school was not odd.  I got my paper out, and a pencil, and stared out the window and watched the sun shine.  It was hot in there, because unlike the spoiled brats now a days, there was only one building that had air conditioning, and it was J building.  I was in B building, on the top floor.  It was ridiculous hot.  But as I stared out the window and sweat, I watched the teacher walk in.  She had the most amazing hair I have ever seen.  It was brown and curly and huge.  (Again, not odd, this was the early 90's you know).  She put down her stuff, and as she wrote her name on the board, she said with enthusiasm. "Hola!  Welcome to Spanish 1!"  Oh. Crap. 

What do I do???  Do I get up?  Do I say , "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I am in the wrong class?"  I look around.  RIght there, in the front, diagonal from me, was my crush, who I had not noticed come in because I was staring out the window sweating.  There was no way in hell I was getting up now.  Talk about embarassing.  So I stare at the back of his head in panic, trying to calculate my next move. Maybe I should ask to go to the bathroom, take my stuff and find the right room.  No no no, that won't work, she will wonder why I am taking all of my stuff to the bathroom.  Well, I guess I am in spanish 1 for the day.  I will find my new room tomorrow. 

That is when he turned around and saw me.  He smiled, "Hey Tiff!  You are in Spanish?  I thought you were in French."  Oh. My. God.  Not only does Mr. Wonderful know who I am, he knew I took intro to French in middle school.  I could feel my face getting red.  I smiled and said, "Guess I thought I would try something new.  I don't know if I am going to stick with it though.  I really liked French.  Might switch classes."  "Oh.  Bummer.  Have fun."  And turned around.  What if....what if I just switched to Spanish???  I was sweating a lot now, not just from the heat, but from the pressure.  What the what should I do??? 

Unfortunately I am a very good little girl, and despite the temptation to stay in Spanish with Mr. Heavenly Eyes, I went to French class the next day.  Oh, and looking back, I am SO glad that I did.  Because I made a really good friend who I didn't talk to for a long time after graduation, but we are super good friends today, and I talk to her almost every day on Facebook.  So see, if I would have stayed in that class, not only would I have missed making friends with Genevieve (That is the french name I am giving her), but I would have totally married Paco (The spanish name for Mr. Bicepts), and I would have missed out on all of the fun I am having with the Admiral!  The only downside, I would have been able to order at McDonalds here where I live now like a boss!

 Ah oui, c'est la vie!

So I have decided to dedicate the next few months of blogging to reliving some of the better stories

from high school, in honor of the class of '94.  Because we freakin rocked, and I was a sort of dork/cool/friends with most people/awkward/mean girl/nice girl next door type of person, so I have a lot of very eclectic stories I can share.  Yay for nostalgia!