So I came across a giant zip lock bag filled with old junior high and high school letters last week and was immediately transported to the days of simpler times, where our most pressing dilemmas ranged from not having a date to winter formal, (“HELP MEEEEE!”) to worrying about who might be sporting the same bikini that summer (“I promise I won’t get the same one but do you care if I get it in blue? Cause I don’t want to if you’re going to be mad at me”) and plenty of tormented analysis of boys who never actually spoke to us. That, and the expected amount of awful teenage poetry framed by blue penned daisies and the last names of the guys were knew we were destined to grow up and marry. If they would just talk to us.
I thought it would be fun to start sharing some of the notes here on Fridays. As ultimate ode to the flashback. I have about 100. And who can’t relate to the absolute humility in being 15 years old, with bad skin, countless insecurities, and a handful of loyal (and sometimes not so loyal) friends there with cutely folded love notes between classes to assure you daily how much prettier you were than whatever girl it was you were silently competing agasint. As the series goes on I’ll be sharing a little more history behind the characters involved. So if by chance you’re reading this now and we went to high school together, I’m sorry.
And if anyone else here has surviving records of their own notes, PLEASE SHARE.
First up: A note from one of my besties in 9th grade, regarding my long standing crush on a guy name Dane who could have easily been mistaken for one of Jared Leto’s less fortunately blessed younger bothers. In all fairness hot, even by today’s standards with long dark hair and steel blue eyes, consistently carrying a skateboard. Whom I never actually spoke to but use to spy on his girlfriend Holly in the bathrooms and hallways to figure out what exactly what it was he found so appealing about her. And with Sam on my side I could at least be sure of one thing: that I did in fact have better hair.
Don’t you think Dane can do better than her more like you! She is the sickest well I don’t know she could be really nice. I used to like him in 7th grade. But I don’t like him anymore. I think you should like somebody better that doesn’t go out with people with a hanging lip. Cause your hair is prettier and your lip doesn’t hang. Well gotta go.
p.s call me tonight when I get back from the hospital