#NaBloPoMo Day 9: A Tale of Two High Schools

We’re 9 days into NaBloPoMo already, wow!  Today’s theme is High School, because who doesn’t want to relive those glory days?

What is the one thing you’ve done that you are most proud of? You know, excluding marriage and kids and all that obligatory stuff?

I think my proudest moment came in high school.  I started off attending my local public school in my home state in the American southwest.  And I hated it.  There was this girl, Katie, who I was friends with already through extracurricular soccer.  She was pretty much the only person I knew when I showed up Day 1 of Freshman year, so I think we became better friends than we should have been.  She introduced me to these two other girls, and we became this little alternative clique.  You know, dark eye make-up, wanna-be skater clothes, ditching class, drinking on the weekends.

And I was so uncomfortable, because that wasn’t me.  But how do you switch social groups in high school?  I felt really stuck, and I was depressed because I just wasn’t having the high school experience that I wanted.

So I did something drastic.  Junior year, I enrolled in a prep boarding school in New England.  I picked myself up and moved clear across the country; away from my parents, my siblings, my friends, every one and everything I ever knew, all because I really wanted to start over.

And it was everything I wanted it to be.  I took full advantage of the opportunity:  I made the varsity soccer team, joined the a capella group, and even auditioned for the hand-bell choir! (But I didn’t actually join the hand-bell choir because that’s social suicide.)

social_suicide

Even though I was the weird new Junior from really far away, other students welcomed me with open arms, and I made a really nice group of diverse friends.  I won’t go so far as to say I was majorly popular, because that would be a bold-faced lie.  But I never felt lonely or dissatisfied with the people I surrounded myself with.

I also really loved living in New England.  It was a welcome change from the desert where I grew up, even if I didn’t know how to dress for the cold.  (Flip flops in the snow, anyone?)

Of course, moving across the country came at a high cost.  Quite literally, because boarding school was not cheap.  I have to acknowledge how incredibly lucky I was to be able to take advantage of the opportunity.  It was certainly a financial stretch for my parents to send me for those two years, but they made it work so I could realize my dream.  Beyond the financial cost, the move was also emotionally taxing: I missed my family A LOT.  But I absolutely do not regret doing it, and I am still so proud of myself for taking control of my life when it wasn’t going my way.  I think that’s a pretty bad-assed thing for a 15-year-old to do.

Until next time,

Vee

 

 

#NaBloPoMo Day 2: None of My Exes Live in Texas

I’m blogging every single day in November, and I’m totally happy to share my list of amateur daily themes if you’re interested in joining me.  In yesterday’s inaugural NaBloPoMo post, I dished about how much I lurv my Hubby.  Out of the fire and back into the frying pan: today’s theme is Ex-Boyfriends.

Do you remember all of your break ups? I cannot for the life of me remember how or why I broke up with my first boyfriend.  At least I think I’m the one who did the breaking up …

Now, I’m calling him my first boyfriend, but technically, he was my second.  I guess I just don’t really count the guy who asked me to be his girlfriend in 9th Grade, since I had my friend break up with him for me the very next day.  (If you talk during the movie we’re watching, you’re gonna get the axe. Sorry.)

And maybe you’re thinking, if I don’t remember my first breakup, it must be because I’ve had so many I can’t keep them straight.  Hah, fooled you!  I am the proud owner of two whole ex-boyfriends (three if you count Mr. Movie Talker).

I do, however, remember the How and Why of my break up with my second boyfriend.  Let’s call him Preston.  As for the How, well, technically, Preston broke up with me.  But I like to think that I expertly drove him crazy on purpose, in the hopes that he would end things so I wouldn’t have to.  Because conflict is gross, and I consider myself a nice person. (Nice enough to drive someone crazy for sixth months in order to avoid an hour of discomfort).

I remember we were on the phone — we were long distance at the time — and somehow we had finally mustered the courage to discuss whether we should call it quits.  I told him I would let him decide, and as he sat there ruminating for a few minutes, I remember praying to myself: “Please, pleaaase, please just break up with me already.”  And he did.  Thank gawd.

As for the Why, well, the main thing was that Preston was a major douche.  (I mean, we did meet at a prep school in New England, so the douchery odds were never in his favor.)  He was super privileged and oblivious to hardship, and he said something once that offended me to my core.  During one of our many phone chats, he told me that he didn’t think he could ever be friends with someone who didn’t go to college.  Ew.  Ew! My skin still crawls when I think about it — so stuck up, so uninformed.  Honestly, when Preston said that, I knew we were done.  It sounds so trivial, but it just perfectly punctuated our entirely distinct world views.

Other than the fact that we were fundamentally completely different people, it was a young relationship and success just wasn’t in the cards.  We started dating when I was a senior in high school, and he was a year behind me.  We decided to stay together long-distance when I headed off to college, because we were stupid and that’s what stupid people do.  But Preston was really judgmental and mean every time I wanted to go out and have fun with my college friends.  And after a while, it got so bad that I just decided to stay home by myself in my dorm.  Major womp womp.  And then when Preston graduated and went off to a different college, he was completely respectful and never went out with friends or got blackout drunk or fell off the map for days.  Haha just kidding, he totally did all those things!  Hypocrite.

So yeah, things went sour and we broke up during his first year of college.  We stayed friends for a while, and chatted on the phone from time to time.  Then one day he changed his Facebook profile to a picture of him nuzzling the navel of a large-chested, bikini-clad co-ed, and we never spoke again. Oh well.

Until next time,

Vee