As I was looking in the mirror this morning, the open bathroom window that was merely supposed to bring in a cool morning breeze was also bringing in the sound of names over a bad sound system followed by cheers and applause. It must be graduation at the high school down the street.
It hit me, as I was slathering a generous heap of anti-wrinkle cream across my forehead, that I graduated from high school exactly 25 years ago.
It's not that it made me feel really old or depressed, I was just a little shocked that I've hit such a milestone.
Well, ok, I lied... it did make me feel kind of old, which was maybe a little depressing...
As I listened to the names reverb through the school district speakers, I started thinking about my senior year and began to consider how much of that girl is still who I am now.
If you ignore the world-is-going-to-end teenage moments like showing up to the senior prom and another girl has the exact same dress on, (please note this is never good, but my high school was SUPER small so it was an extra big fashion disaster), or the time I missed curfew and found my mother sitting in a chair right behind the front door, or the time my shoe came untied during a pep rally while I was performing a cheerleading dance routine, then I have to say... my senior year was pretty magical...
I was a cheerleader, although I really sucked at it because I thought jumping around yelling at people to get excited about watching our mediocre football team get trampled by bigger kids from bigger schools was kind of lame... especially when it was freezing cold outside. But being a cheerleader truly rocked... because you know, those super cute skirts! I was editor-in-chief of the yearbook which might sound geeky but I loved making creative decisions and most of all being in charge. My boyfriend of course, was the popular local rock star who was a whole 35 minutes away at college. He came home every weekend and his band would play at an old pig ranch in the middle of nowhere and we'd make out in his car. Good times. To top it all off I reigned as queen of the town having been named Miss Wrightwood the summer before my senior year.
Like I said... magical.
I've only been back to my alma mater stomping grounds a handful of times since graduation. My parents moved away and the majority of my high school friends and I got out of that small town and stayed out. And then Facebook happened.
I've had coffee with a high school friend in Chicago, drinks with another girlfriend in San Jose and even attended a mini multi-class reunion in Las Vegas. And a couple months ago I got the Facebook invite to see that same high school BF reunite with the boys for a gig at the Yodeler. Of course I had to go... hopeful that an evening spent with old flames and crushes would provide marvelous material for my blog. But instead of leaving with a spicy story, I just came away from that night with a grateful heart. I realized how much the people I grew up with influenced who I am today... I felt grounded and connected to a place I thought I didn't belong to anymore.
Anyway... how much of that girl is still me? Well, I still make decisions based upon how cute the clothes are, I make my living as a creative director, I'm still wildly attracted to artistic boys be it musicians, writers, actors, photographers... So it turns out the only thing that I've left in my past is that tiara.
Well, actually I still have it... I just keep it tucked away in a safe place. It cracked years ago and while still in one piece, it's really fragile.
Click.
Somehow over the years I think I've lost some of that care-free confidence that allowed me to enter and win that contest. I don't need rhinestones any more, but I need to work on rediscovering some of that inner sparkle. I would also like to look that fabulous in a bathing suit again. Yes... there was a bathing suit competition involved...
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