I Wanna Be Cute, Peppy, Fucking Cheerleader!

I have a hard time believing we ever wanted this that badly.  We so weren't the type.  But, we were freshman, and I guess we figured becoming a cheerleader would be our entree into all that was high school life.  We didn't make it.  I don't remember any devastation over it, I know we never tried out again, and it wasn't a big deal.  In fact, I'm not sure we even went all the way through the tryouts--I have no recollection of it at all.

The Pigs

Just had to add that the author of this note is having a birthday today!  I now have known her for about 28 birthdays.  Happy birthday, you know who you are!



I'm having one of those days when I can't remember ever being this young.

Le Cartoons

So K liked to draw this little character on all of her notes--Fuzzy.  She was part of this notebook, so this is all good-natured ribbing.

You Can Always Lie

Between that suggestion and the drawings, you'd think "H" wasn't such a good influence.  She was actually the more angelic of our crowd.

You'll notice on the "Butts" below, I selected "a" or "b", but I ended up married to a "c" or "d".  My freckle faced Irish husband has got back.  You'll also notice our apparent fascination with male genetalia (and sex in general).  I can assure you, we had never seen any, other than what which belonged to our little brothers. 

Interpretations

Today was a double, so be sure to check below this post for another new one.

My friends were always more creative and talented than I was!  These are the things we were treated to, via notes, regularly.  My personal favorite is "Ball Toss":

The Single Life Sux

At least, according to a 14-year old.  I guess "K" had been dumped by her boyfriend.  I'm less mortified by my advice to her than I am of my improper spelling of "you're". 

Does anyone remember Petra?  I never listened to them, but I remember some of  my Protestant friends talking about them.

More of the Same

 

 

Ho's Before Bros

Well, obviously I'm not going to be a daily blogger!  In the beginning, I spent an hour or so and scanned a bunch of stuff, edited it, and had it ready to go.  But I ran out of that stash, and couldn't manage to set aside some time to make another.  Spent some time today, and we're back!  This is a notebook from freshman year between H, myself, and another person.  That third person's notes aren't included, because I haven't obtained her permission, so it may seem disjointed from time to time.  I don't have the entire notebook--we must have split it amongst ourselves.  I have some good stuff, though!

So, M was a friend of ours who seemed to make a point of flirting with anyone with a Y chromosome, even if she was aware of the fact that you liked him.    L was another friend who was ditching us for a boyfriend on a regular basis.  We were fourteen.  And kinda bitchy.  And apparently big on the "chicks before dicks" mentality.  And, if this note is any indication, I was the worst babysitter in all of Houston.  I don't remember being that way--I wonder if there was a particular reason for my apparent hostility toward this baby. 

P.S.  Love my rationalization for my bitchiness--"I'm choosy!"

 

 

Fur Toilet Seats

So I used to tease BFF a lot about being a snob.  Once, when we were in (Houston's most expensive) mall, she needed to pee.  We were right next to the mall bathroom.  She refused to use the mall bathroom and insisted that we head to the opposite end of the mall to use the bathroom at Neiman Marcus.  I can relate now, as I've become pretty picky about bathrooms myself these days. 

Edited to add the best part:  I told her, "I am NOT walking all the way to Neiman Marcus so you can sit on a fur toilet seat!"

 

Bonus Challenge

I hate hate hate this blog template, but I'm too clueless to format my own, so I'm stuck with it.  Anyway, if you scroll all the way to the right, you'll see my Safeway nametag on the header.  What is stuck to it?  (Apart from hair and glitter?)  Anyone?  Anyone?  I'll post the answer tomorrow.

Escargot

We lived in a very nice rental house with my mom at one point in high school.  For some weird reason, though, if you went into the kitchen in the middle of the night, there would be as many as eight slugs oozing across the floor.  The dishwasher was usually running at that point, so I don't kow if that had something to do with it.  It was totally mysterious.

 

SLIS translations:  We didn't have vocabulary.  I hate vocabulary.  I don't think I can last through these next thirty days.  I wish we were still in Foods class.  I wish it was last year.  Last year at this time was so fun.  Right now we would be making our burnt bacon, gray eggs, chewy orange juice, and flat biscuits.  H would be saying, I'll eat it!"  It would be gross, but fun. 

As you can see, I've always been sentimental.  At fifteen, I'm reminiscing about being fourteen.

Color-Happy Dummies

I have no excuse for my lack of posting other than sheer laziness.  My apologies.  Here's a double.  Wonder Betty was our bio teacher, who claimed, among other things, to have had ideas of hers stolen by Watson &Crick, written several books, and gone hiking in the Himilayas while nine months pregnant.  But for some reason, she chose to be a high school science teacher.  Go figure.

 

Back in the day, Houston had two newspapers, the Chronicle and the Post.  Most people were loyal to one or the other.  Around the middle of high school, the Post started printing pictures in color, while the Chronicle remained entirely black and white.  We had an ongoing mock argument that the Post had to appeal to it's less-intelligent readers by offering pretty colors.

 



Floyd!

My first car was given to me on my 17th birthday, in 1987.  My dad gave me a 1981 Mustang...no frills, bottom of the line, four speed, and the timing was way off.  I'd turn the engine off, remove the keys, go into the gas station to pay, and it would till be sputtering and shaking when I got back out.  But I loooooved him, and I named him Floyd.  About six months after I got him, I was slowing down on a rainy day and it spun out (apparently, this car was notorious for this) and hit a tree.  I took out an $800 loan from the credit union in my own name to repair it, and it took months before I got him back.  Unfortunately, I took it to an oil change place less than a year after I got it, and they left the cap off.  I burned up the engine, and Floyd was no more, to be replaced with Rex, a 1978 Chevy Caprice Classic with an 8-track player and no AC we picked up for $300.  And I was still paying off the loan well into my college years!

 

Self Defense

It's Friday!  C-Note day.  "Company" was Performing Arts Company.  That's right, Sister Christian was a musical geek.

 

Life In Rome

Around junior year...everyone starts dieting.  Really, I'm glad I don't have girls, because I wouldn't have a clue how to prevent this.  We were all around a size six!

 

Fish Love

A rare note from me.  BFF saved mine, too, and gave them to me a few years back.  "C" was my first love.  We met freshman year at a dance.  He had just moved to Texas from Malibu, and I thought he was oh-so-cool with his surf wax, his new wave hair that fell in his face, his leather tie...we "dated" off and on for the entire year.  Dating meant hanging out in groups at the mall, mostly, but whatever.  The guy must have had the patience of a saint--since we were always surrounded by people, we didn't actually kiss until the summer after we met!  By sophomore year, we were mostly off.  But obviously, this was during an "on" period.  His neoghborhood friend would like to sneak out at night and visit his girlfriend, and he needed "C" to boost him p to her window, so while they fooled around, "C" would have nothing to do, so he'd come knock on my window in the middle of the night and I'd sneak out and make out with him in his van.  Ah, young love!  "C" moved back to California junior year, but I never forgot him!

 

Cougar In Training

Happy Friday!  I like a good "C" note for Fridays...always bubbly and talking about partying.  I can't remember if C married someone younger.  I did.  Truly, though, I think we all dated guys younger than we were at one point or another.

 

Total Rebellion!

Hello, little piggies!  (As one of my friends started many a note...)

I have no idea why we had a secret day off, nor do I have any clue what we had planned (aside from drinking, apparently), but it sure sounds exciting!  SILIS translation below, for those of you who are experiencing end-of-the-week brain death.

"Tomorrow morning I'm going to drink some Ronrico.  After all, you're only a teeenager once; you might as well live it up.  We're gonna have such a blast!  (Unless _____ comes)  Does he know we'll be there?  I kinda doubt he'll want to hang around us anyway...since we "hate his guts" and all.

I'm glad you liked that story about the U.S. Open.  I think it's kind of weird.    By the way, I'm serious about weed.  I'd rather smoke than drink; I'd rather be high than low.  But weed is very expensive.  However, T owes me some favors....But even though grass is better than alcohol for you, it seems worse 'cause it's illegal for everyone. 

What kind of clothes are you bringing?

If you want to hear something really sick, ask me about my dream last night.  I woke up feeling really evil. 

The freshmen in this room make me very intolerant.  I want to hurt them badly.

If, perchance, some friggin administrator decides we can't afford to miss a day, it will be...TR.  TOTAL REBELLION!

Sorry, sorry!

My computer went belly up on Saturday, and it took me until now to get it up and running long enough to transfer the stuff I had scanned to the new computer.  Here's a double for your trouble.

Yes, I worked at Safeway--my first real job.  That's my nametag up there on the right.

Wonder who the demi-god was?  I am frightened to think that my oldest is just five years from driving.  We were obviously way to immature,  and we were girls!

Hungry Teenagers

I can't get over how often we mentioned food and how hungry we were.  It's a wonder we weren't all as big as houses, but we weren't.  Makes me nervous about our grocery budget when my kids get a few years older!

Translation for "Spell It Like It Sounds" note below, but try to read it--it's funnier that way.  Oh, and "C" (who is reading this blog), you're the little spaz!

Lucky you, a note in "spell it like it sounds"!  You know something?  I never write notes to anyone but you.  Feel proud!   "Say it loud, I'm black and I'm proud"  makes me think of ___________
 I'm in Morality, doing group work.  Sure.  Does this look like group work to you? 
 I crave an Arby's jamocha shake.  Yummy.
 So...did B have anything interesting to say last night?  Has he asked you to marry him yet?  When he does, can I be in the wedding? 
 S said he doesn't really think you're rude because I let you read the note.  He was only hazing you.

 Are y'all going to the Greek Festival?  K was asking me, "Are you going with T?  I hope she knows there's gonna be no privacy!"  She and MK think this writing is really wild.  Now she's talking about baklava.  I'm hungry again.
 Remember that "What Turns You On" quiz?  Well, T said painted toenails gave him a four.  S gave 'em a four, too!  I don't know why they feel that way.  Mommy painted mine last night.  Cute, isn't it?
 I can't wait to go to the Renaissance Festival.  We must go, and we must eat a lot!  I wish they would get off their butts and make some fried ice cream!  Remember their french fries?  I'm getting all excited over food.  How scary!
 I can hear S giggle from way across the room.  What a little spaz!
 T's losing it!
   l-        S
T said hi



Locker Trauma

There wasn't a whole lot of theft at our school, and we didn't keep anything valuable in our lockers, so most of us would purchase a lock at the beginning of the year, and then leave it slipped through the hole, but hanging open.  No one wanted to take the time to work the combination between classes.  So it was quite common to come back from Christmas break to find you had locked your locker before you left and completely forgotten the combination.  Additionally, it was a good way to mess with someone--lock their locker and they'll be sure to waste at least 30 minutes tracking down the custodian with the lock cutters and be late for class.

Oh, and if anyone can remember what film/book my friend is referring to here, I'll be relieved if you'd let me know.  The name "Wilky" is triggering my memory, but not hard enough to tell me where it came from.

A Different HoJo

My freshman year of high school (84-85) we went to see Howard Jones in concert at Astroworld, and I fell in love.  Well, we all did, but I was probably the most obsessed.  Many notebooks are filled with his song lyrics.  Even I don't get it now!