It's about 257 million degrees below zero outside (okay, so it's "only" going to be 27 degrees below zero tonight and that's "only" a record for the coldest day ever here, so that translates to 257 million degrees below zero in my math count) and thus there is little to do outside the home. The wife is settling in to watch "American Idol" (does that count as a reality show?) and I'm plugging along on Book de la Face.
I notice that I have a pending friend request. It's a guy from high school. I recognize the name but am stumped in what capacity I knew him (band? speech team? art club? algebra class?). I learned my lesson from the last time I accepted a high school classmate as a friend, only to be deleted right from friendshipland by the guy who had just asked for it. Sheesh. Seems Mr. "Million-Man-Marching-Christian" Religion didn't want a heathen like me for a Book de la Face friend. I am smarter now--I check out the requester's home page before saying "yes" or "no" to friend status. (This is hard--I'm a friend whore and want as many friends as I can get---but, one must have SOME scruples.) I check out his page...and, yup--evangelical Christian. He is SOOOOO not going to want to be my friend. In the long run, I will probably ignore his request. I'm going to need reference material before making a final decision....
I am going to need my high school yearbook.
I go to the basement and dig out my high school yearbook (senior year, of course). You bet your bippy the wife had a look of terror on her face when I came up from the basement carrying my yearbook, as she knows I had to go digging for it. "WHERE did you get THAT?" she asks skeptically. I smile knowingly that no answer will suffice, so I mumble assurances that I put everything back where it belonged. (For the record, I actually DID put everything back from where it came but I highly doubt it is EXACTLY in the same wife space.)
I peruse the pages, recognizing many of the faces and names, but the "way" I know them remains very fuzzy in most instances. I start with the senior portraits and move on toward band photos, sports photos, nerdy club photos. I get distracted and start reading what people have written all over the book.
If I had any words of wisdom to my nieces regarding the signing of yearbooks, it would be this: SIGN YOUR FRIGGIN' LAST NAME TO YOUR ENTRY!
I have no idea who these people are, as most of them only wrote their first name. Combine the first name with the generic entry ("You are so fun! I"m so glad I got to know you! We will always be friends!") along with twenty eight years of brain cell loss and I am left scratching my head.
From what I can tell from my senior year yearbook, I was: (1) really funny in Algebra II; (2) I was really funny in general; and, (3) everyone wanted me to have good luck in everything I did upon graduation.
For the record, I hated Algebra II and really sucked at it; in fact, I did whatever possible to avoid that class. I spent a lot of time in the Band Room in an effort to not go to Algebra II. (I'm math impaired. I don't like it, it doesn't like me. I want to like math. I really do. I just don't have the oomph to try. In my opinion, they invented calculators and computers so I wouldn't have to worry about algebra. That's also why I have the wife--math goddess, that she is.) When I actually went to the class, I did my best to have fun. (I think it's telling that the teacher wrote that I was a "very interesting student.") I do remember that I consumed $48.00 of band candy while in Algebra II (not all in one day, thank god) and that I didn't get a very good grade. Between Algebra II and Physics, it is an absolute miracle that I graduated number four out of 600. (All those extracurricular activities must have made up for those two classes).
Side note to the nieces: no one cares about your high school class rank when you get out into the real world. It's all good when trying to get into college and maybe when getting that first job, but otherwise, no one will really care, which kind of pisses me off, being that I graduated way up there. Be proud and work hard, anyways. You and I will always know you rocked high school.
I notice that I have a pending friend request. It's a guy from high school. I recognize the name but am stumped in what capacity I knew him (band? speech team? art club? algebra class?). I learned my lesson from the last time I accepted a high school classmate as a friend, only to be deleted right from friendshipland by the guy who had just asked for it. Sheesh. Seems Mr. "Million-Man-Marching-Christian" Religion didn't want a heathen like me for a Book de la Face friend. I am smarter now--I check out the requester's home page before saying "yes" or "no" to friend status. (This is hard--I'm a friend whore and want as many friends as I can get---but, one must have SOME scruples.) I check out his page...and, yup--evangelical Christian. He is SOOOOO not going to want to be my friend. In the long run, I will probably ignore his request. I'm going to need reference material before making a final decision....
I am going to need my high school yearbook.
I go to the basement and dig out my high school yearbook (senior year, of course). You bet your bippy the wife had a look of terror on her face when I came up from the basement carrying my yearbook, as she knows I had to go digging for it. "WHERE did you get THAT?" she asks skeptically. I smile knowingly that no answer will suffice, so I mumble assurances that I put everything back where it belonged. (For the record, I actually DID put everything back from where it came but I highly doubt it is EXACTLY in the same wife space.)
I peruse the pages, recognizing many of the faces and names, but the "way" I know them remains very fuzzy in most instances. I start with the senior portraits and move on toward band photos, sports photos, nerdy club photos. I get distracted and start reading what people have written all over the book.
If I had any words of wisdom to my nieces regarding the signing of yearbooks, it would be this: SIGN YOUR FRIGGIN' LAST NAME TO YOUR ENTRY!
I have no idea who these people are, as most of them only wrote their first name. Combine the first name with the generic entry ("You are so fun! I"m so glad I got to know you! We will always be friends!") along with twenty eight years of brain cell loss and I am left scratching my head.
From what I can tell from my senior year yearbook, I was: (1) really funny in Algebra II; (2) I was really funny in general; and, (3) everyone wanted me to have good luck in everything I did upon graduation.
For the record, I hated Algebra II and really sucked at it; in fact, I did whatever possible to avoid that class. I spent a lot of time in the Band Room in an effort to not go to Algebra II. (I'm math impaired. I don't like it, it doesn't like me. I want to like math. I really do. I just don't have the oomph to try. In my opinion, they invented calculators and computers so I wouldn't have to worry about algebra. That's also why I have the wife--math goddess, that she is.) When I actually went to the class, I did my best to have fun. (I think it's telling that the teacher wrote that I was a "very interesting student.") I do remember that I consumed $48.00 of band candy while in Algebra II (not all in one day, thank god) and that I didn't get a very good grade. Between Algebra II and Physics, it is an absolute miracle that I graduated number four out of 600. (All those extracurricular activities must have made up for those two classes).
Side note to the nieces: no one cares about your high school class rank when you get out into the real world. It's all good when trying to get into college and maybe when getting that first job, but otherwise, no one will really care, which kind of pisses me off, being that I graduated way up there. Be proud and work hard, anyways. You and I will always know you rocked high school.
I thought it'd be hilarious to copy some of the hand-written entries. Heck, it's too cold outside to do anything else and I really want to put off finishing the laundry and shoveling the sidewalk (AGAIN!).
- "How could anyone not love you? If I were a guy, I'd probably adore the ground you walked on." (I swear I did not make that up; some band girl wrote that in big, cursive letters.)
- (This one must be dedicated to my mother) "When you get married, you have to serve your family cube steaks and beef & gravy."
- (What IS up with all the girls professing their love for me?) "I really have to come to love you dearly. Next time I wink at ya and tell ya I love you, I really mean it, okay?!"
- "Good luck with your Flying School for Deaf and Blind Algebra Books. I know it will be a prosperous organization." (Um, I don't even know what to say about that. And, no I didn't recognize the person who wrote it.)
- "Even dodging the dog poopies was fun."
- "There are times when I wish I could just hug you but thren I think of [insert girl's name here] and I keep my hands off!" (Okay, really--what is UP with all these straight girls writing this queer stuff?)
- "Whenever I hear the name Jane Addams, I'll think of you."
- "I hope you will remember me." (Not so much. Don't recognize that name at all.)
Final words to nieces: don't bother putting your phone number after your signature. Really. You won't call anyone, anyways. Besides, you have cell phones and palm pilots; you don't need phone numbers in year books.
My goal was to learn if I wanted to accept the Book de la Face request. The yearbook was no help in that department but looking through the book was a heck of a lot of fun. I suggest all of you go and dig out one of your yearbooks. The hairdos alone will make you laugh.
You know, I am going to accept his friendship request just because he motivated me to take a stroll down memory lane. He'll remove me from his friendship list as soon as he reads my profile but it will be worth it.
My goal was to learn if I wanted to accept the Book de la Face request. The yearbook was no help in that department but looking through the book was a heck of a lot of fun. I suggest all of you go and dig out one of your yearbooks. The hairdos alone will make you laugh.
You know, I am going to accept his friendship request just because he motivated me to take a stroll down memory lane. He'll remove me from his friendship list as soon as he reads my profile but it will be worth it.
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