2022: The Year That Ran Away Very Fast

 I woke up the other morning and realized that it is about to be 2022.  Then I really woke up, because it is about to be 2023.  Say that to yourself.  I'll wait. 

What happened to 2022? It seems as though we just began this year, and it is already over?  I was going to do the usual, lose a bunch of weight and finish up my doctorate, finally clean my house, and travel the world.  I was going to craft my little heart out, relax more, and be ridiculously happy.  

Only none of those things happened.  Instead, I slugged my way through a year that felt rushed, like there was a bouncer behind the curtain saying "Move along" over and over.  Events that happened in January 2022 feel like they happened at least three years ago.  Maybe it was that the pandemic seemed to be finished (it is not) or that life was getting back to some semblance of normal.  Maybe it was the medication my doctor prescribed me for sleep (maybe?).  Maybe the world just began to move at its former pace, but no one got the memo or we just put our fingers in our ears.  Stuff happened, but it mostly did not register, because more stuff happened.  

I got moved to a high school for the first time since 1994.  I love it, of course, but it is a bit more fast paced now.  Of course, there have been a number of security changes since the tragedy in Uvalde.  I will get upset about that, but mostly angry.  I firmly believe that if you kill something, you eat it.  That is an established rule in our family. I think that this should be the rule of law in Texas.  You get convicted of shooting someone?  Here is your fork and a bib.  I think that this would at least make a person pause before committing murder.   Nobody needs these assault rifles in civilian life. 

We found a kitten with a lot of health problems, who did not live very long. I had never seen a cat have a seizure before, so it was a shock to see the little precious go flying out of my husband's arms all the way over the coffee table.  She was beautiful, and we named her Galadriel, but she succumbed to her illness after six happy months with us. It was a family decision. The vet we took her to allowed all of us to be in the room, and Larry got to hold her.  I still miss that spunky kitty, and every other animal that has passed over the rainbow bridge. 

My son started HIGH SCHOOL. I am still not over that.  HIGH SCHOOL.  He is enjoying himself, and informed me that he wants to get his drivers license when he turns 16.  "But you just GOT to HIGH SCHOOL!!!"  I told him, and then went into my room and cried in secret, as you do.  Meanwhile, my boy is heading toward six feet while eating every item of food in the house.  Typical boy.  I am trying to let him make some decisions for himself, even if in my head I am explaining why his decision is not a good decision. The boy needs to find out for himself, and there is only one way that happens. I was a dork in high school, too.  

We finally watched Yellowstone.  By the end of the first episode, I turned to Larry and said, "Sopranos of the West." He agreed.  Kevin Costner's character is Tony Soprano, that guy Rip is his consigliere, etc.  The reservation people are a rival gang.  All the dudes with the brand are made men.  No sin to move a classic show like the Sopranos into Montana and call it something new, but they should have been more honest about it. 

World Cup was very exciting--I picked Argentina to win, but since I am bad at gambling, I forgot to sign up or did not sign up correctly. But almost every game was a nail biter!  Congratulations to Argentina for their heroic play. You can go ahead and brag until 2026.  Messi and I share a birthday, so I take just a tiny bit of pride in his win.  A teeny-tiny bit. I am so happy for him, and he deserves all of the accolades he gets. 

And Donald Trump is still an idiot who deserves some slapping, and it looks like he might actually get it.  I would volunteer.  Maybe like that scene in Airplane!, we can have a line of citizens ready to slap waiting outside the courthouse. 

Happy New Year!  May 2023 slow down enough so that you can enjoy it!  

Hallucinations of Yesteryear

Every teenage girl has crushes.  It's just part of being a teenager, these strange and slightly romantic feelings about other people. I was no different. I mostly worshipped from afar, however. I was content to stare at the boys of my dreams surreptitiously in the cafeteria, or follow them at a discreet ten paces to their next class. It was never long until I moved onto the next fellow. Most of the time, the objects of my affection didn't even know that I was interested in them, and that was probably for the best. There was no telling what sort of MTV drama would have occurred if they had known. I wasn't really interested in an actual relationship with these boys, anyway, except in my head. Where it was safe, and nobody got pregnant.  As far as I was concerned, my actions were perfectly harmless for all involved.

And then there was X(name changed just because I can't remember how to spell it).

X and I had several classes together, and sat next to each other, and hung out with the same group in the library every morning. We were just friends; that was my thing.  But along the way I developed a huge crush, that didn't go away. I wasn't about to admit it to anyone, but I enjoyed talking to X.  He was funny, and his attempts at speaking high school German were downright endearing. I found myself thinking about him way more than I normally would, at odd times, and I admitted to myself that I...liked him. In that way. I finally decided to take a significant emotional risk, to let X know how I felt. I gathered up my courage and asked him to the Prom. I was careful to frame my request as a joke, just in case.

When he turned me down, I was secretly heartbroken.

But I moved on. I'm a survivor. I left the state and had other grand adventures involving other boys and ended up married and happy. I always had fond memories of X, however.  He was wrapped up in warm feelings, like an old comfy sweatshirt.  He became something shiny I would take out and admire every so often, remembering fun times. 
  

Except memory is a tricky bastard.  It's been thirty years since high school, and like Indiana Jones says, it's not the years, it's the miles.  Lots of miles on this brain of mine.  My memory of what X looked like ended up crumpled and blurred in my head, until he looked a lot more like...Edward Norton.  A young Edward Norton. Where Edward Norton's image came from will remain a mystery, but for years, that's the picture that came into my head when I thought of X. 

And then X finally posted a picture of himself on the Book of Face, and he looked nothing like Edward Norton.  Not even close.  I sat there, staring hard at the screen. I squinted my eyes, tilted my head. Nope. Not Edward Norton. I even had the eye color wrong!  Also? X did not age well. His former tall and lean body, those nice arms...all gone. Instead, a formless potato shape, similar to my own.

The reality of X, after all these years, was disconcerting.   Am I a shallow person? No, I don't think so. After all, I haven't aged well, either. I recognize each and every scar, gray hair, and wrinkle as badges of honor, marks of distinction, and I wear those with pride. I am sure that X has similar badges.  We've earned our scars.

But I want my old memory back. I want my fond and treasured memories of when I was seventeen, before life ran me over twice and flung me in a ditch. So I am waiting, not so patiently, for my memory to crumple and curve and distort in a more pleasant story.  Maybe not Edward Norton this time, but close enough.

My Teen-Aged Self Was Kind Of An Idjit.

A couple of weeks ago, maybe, my friend Andrea over at Maybe It's Just Me...  invited people to participate in her blog hop on March 25th.  The title of the blog hop escapes me...oh yeah, here it is:

http://andrea-maybeitsjustme.blogspot.com/

My So-Called Teenage Life Blog Hop.  Sounds fun, eh? 

I used to keep a journal back then, but I can't even tell you where the heck it went.  It is likely in some box, shut off from the light, being slowly eaten by rogue silverfish.  And the truth is that that journal was full of horribly emotional and dramatic prose, dripping with angst.  I remember that for at least three years I wrote about how I had an enormous crush on a poor boy named Tyler.  I never actually ever spent any time with Tyler, mind you.  He was a nice young man--athletic, blonde, and Nordic, but I had this entire romance created in my head that had absolutely nothing to do with him.  That's what I wrote about in my journal, all about how this imaginary Tyler was going to notice me and sweep me off my feet and it would be, like, the most awesome romance in the history of romances.  I would be cool by default!  What happened after that was a little blurry, of course.  I mooned over him from afar, finally saying something to a friend.  Being a teenager, she promptly told everyone on the planet, and Tyler, who had no interest in me, went a little overboard in announcing his rejection.  I decided that he liked being with the cool kids, and didn't want to lose his standing. Then my journal was full of mournful despair, "woe is me, nobody understands the depth of my heartbreak"  mixed in with hopeful asides, such as "Oh my God!  Tyler asked me for a pencil!!! He really cares!!!"   Yeah, I was emo before anyone else even thought about it.  

I had lots of those sorts of secret crushes, on random boys who knew nothing about me or my adoration.  Boys named Chad and Carl and Neil, worshiped from afar.  I think that was sort of the point--once they knew that I liked them, I seemed to lose interest.  The dream was much more preferable than the reality.  Even then, I wasn't too keen on commitment.  I was also awkward, uncoordinated, and incredibly naive about the world and the people in it.  Most of what I knew about relationships came from books, like the Harlequin romance novels that my mom would get free and bring home, or the Louis L'Amour novels that my dad collected.   Not exactly realistic versions of courtship. My innocence in matters of the heart also meant that I usually had NO idea that a guy liked me at all until they flat out said so.  Then I would be completely flabbergasted at the idea that any boy would look at me and be interested.  What the heck was wrong with them, that they liked me?

Yeah, I was a hot mess.

Yep, I found my yearbook!

If I could talk to my teenage self right now, I would tell her that under no circumstances should she even think about cutting her own hair.  I would say that she should find a girl named Michelle and hug her, because she would be a lifelong friend and a wonderful influence.  I would say that she should tell the boy, whoever he was, how she feels instead of keeping it to herself.  I would advise her to take chances on the boys who worked up the courage to tell her how they felt.  I would tell her to avoid the red hair color and any semblance of a mullet.  I would tell her to hire a math tutor once she got to college, and to minor in business and computer science instead of English. 

Also, teenaged self, stay AWAY from the trash can punch.  Really.  And no more than two tequila shots in an evening, girl!  Stick to beer--you're germanic, you can drink beer like water.

Okay, head over to Andrea's and join her hop!!!  

Insect in Amber

Once again, we’re trying something new. Shannon was asked to pick any fiction book, turn to page 77 and give the seventh sentence as the prompt. This week, you will use the sentence somewhere within the body of your story. You can not use it to open or end your story. Please use bold font on the prompt sentence so that it can be found easily. Shannon chose Lev Grossman’s “The Magicians” and the prompt is:

He felt like a safe cracker who – partly by luck – had sussed out the first digit in a lengthy, arduous combination.

This is a little long, even after I snipped at it for an hour.  Sorry.  

Matthias always felt uncomfortable around Celeste, the captain of the cheerleading squad.  She was beautiful, with a bright smile and flowing chestnut hair that she kept up in a pony tail, so that her elegant neck was displayed tastefully.  Each school day, when she sat next to him in English III, his shirt seemed to shrink around his neck, and his face felt hot.  Celeste never said a word to him, but his tongue grew thick and whatever words he might choose to say stuck in his throat.  He spent the class like an insect in amber, frozen and helpless, until the bell rang.  He might understand college level quantum physics, but he was at a loss when it came to understanding what his father called the fairer sex.   

Matthias understood the unspoken rules governing social interactions in high school.  She was gorgeous and he was not.  She was popular and he was not.  Balance must be kept in this ecosystem. There was no chance, on any planet, in any other time dimension, that Celeste Harper would give him the time of day.  Ever.  The sooner he got over his little crush, he told himself, the better off he would be.  

Until one day, Celeste Harper smiled at him in the hallway as he walked by her locker. 

Matthias stumbled as he realized that she was smiling at him.  He looked around for the popular student who must be behind him, to find that he was alone.  By the time he had arrived at his next class, he had dismissed the entire event as impossible. She hadn't even spoken to him in class, and it was January--why would she smile at him now?  Celeste had probably confused him with someone else, he decided.

Except that Celeste also waved at him in the cafeteria.  

He looked around as he sat alone in the far corner, where he had been told to sit so the principal could assure his parents that he would not be bullied anymore.  Maybe he had imagined the wave. Surely she had been waving to someone else?  

"Hi, Matthias!" Celeste sat down next to him, her teeth blinding.  "I've decided that you need some lunchtime company. Scoot over."   

As Matthias began to scoot over, and he found himself alone with a table full of giggling, gossiping girls.  He felt like a safe cracker who – partly by luck – had sussed out the first digit in a lengthy, arduous combination. Being in such close proximity to such beautiful girls was disconcerting, as if the natural order had been shattered, but he was determined to persevere.  

One of the cheerleaders asked if Matthias might have a moment after he finished eating to help her with a difficult Algebra equation. When that was finished, another cheerleader asked for help with an economics assignment.  The one after that asked for his help in figuring out chemistry.  As the bell rang and the entire squad quickly gathered their things and headed to the gym, Celeste planted a quick kiss on Matthias' cheek, thanking him for his help.

He just sat there as the cafeteria emptied, his cheek tingling, until the bell rang.  Celeste Harper had kissed him!  He felt altered by that kiss, elevated to a new rung on the social ladder, and he was drunk with the potency of an idea. Popularity had long been denied to him, and now suddenly it was in his grasp, except for a small nagging voice in the back of his head warning him about the natural order of things.   As he made his way down the hall to class, he walked taller, a little spring in his step.   

Over the next few weeks, Celeste and her group of girls sat with Matthias in the cafeteria for lunch.  They said hello to him in the hallway.  He was petted and fussed over.  Celeste and her squad smiled at him, hugged him, and kissed him. They posted cute photos of themselves on Matthias' Facebook page.  The girls even had a cute nickname for him--Puppy.  

Other students noticed, especially Emily Morgan, a girl in his advanced chemistry class. She wasn't very pretty, not compared to Celeste, but she was smart, and Matthias' shirt never felt too tight when she was around, so they became friends. 

Emily was waiting for him in the hallway outside of the cafeteria one day in May, her face set in firm lines.

"I can't stay out of this any longer," Emily began.  "Celeste and the other cheerleaders are just using you."

Confused at her vehemence, Matthias just shook his head.

"They do this every year, Matthias!"  Emily was emphatic. "Every year, the cheerleaders "adopt" a nerd.  They call them Puppies, and the cheerleaders hang all over you poor bastards until there is no chance that they might fail and be disqualified from participating in cheer competitions. Then they dump the poor guy, cut him off completely. We are all supposed to keep quiet about it, too, but I hate that they are doing this to you!"

Matthias didn't respond.  He did not want to hear any more.  He walked into English III, his head held high.  He sat down next to Celeste and smiled  at her.   

Celeste cooly stared at him a moment, contempt in her eyes, then she picked up her books and asked the teacher if she could move to a different seat.  Stunned, Matthias heard Emily's words in his head.  He sat alone in the cafeteria for the rest of the year while he ate the cheese sandwiches his mother made for him, and contemplated nature's attempts to restore balance to the universe.