Today I began the tedious task of sorting through high school (actually, junior high and elementary) memories, figuring out what to toss and what to pack and ship home. I began by reading my high school yearbooks (9th-12th grade), trying to recapture/remember the type of person I was. According to friends, I was "funny", "strange", "sweet", obsessed with tanning (if they could see me now), a practical joker, "cute". Most of my teachers were kind in their comments, save for one: Mrs. White. The dreaded, evil, Mrs. White of 9th grade Algebra. She wrote: "Stop being so uptight. A bundle of nerves." Is this what junior high teachers should write in their pupils yearbooks? I think not. I've been rather peeved about it all day. Bitch. Ahem, back to the 1980s. My hair was absolutely, hands down, atrocious. My motto must have been: the bigger, the better. I'm surprised I had any friends at all.
On to college. My first notebook I decided to read was from my "Major English Writings I course". First up: notes on Old English, Chaucer, and Beowulf. My typical journal began: "Oh god, not another poem in Middle English!" Still, my prof. gave me a 9/10 for my "style" and confessed that she, too, was not a huge fan of this time period. Ha.
Stuffed in different notebooks, I discovered the "love letter" collection . . . Damn. Too hokey to re-create for the blog. Too hokey for me to stomach. Yet, I'm not sure I can ditch these memories. We'll see. They remain in the "maybe" pile.
Aside from this chore, I love being home again. This is and will always be home to me. The minute I arrived, I tossed my shoes off and walked into the ocean. Living on the beach is beautiful. And the food and drink aint too bad either. My, how a bloody mary tastes with steamed oysters!
Back to memories.
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1 comment:
hey, why don't you upload some of those 80's pics to your blog? bring 'em home, honey and we will have some fun with them.
oh, by the way, you are STILL "funny" and "strange."
jb
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