I'm going to remember all the Halloween costumes I've worn through the years. Usually I start from most recent and work back to the oldest, but this time I will do the opposite.
1989. Family pictures indicate that I was a panda bear. But obviously I don't remember that, since I was only one.
1990. Again, family pictures indicate that I was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, but I don't remember what one. Just today, I was thinking how TMNT was a sizeable part of my childhood, even though I remember hardly anything about it now.
1991. My mom insists that I was a green butterfly, but I don't remember it.
1992 or 1993. One of these years, I was a ladybug. I remember one kid saying, "A little ladybug!" and I was offended because I thought he was making fun of me. My mom told me he wasn't.
1994. I was Santa Claus, but my beard didn't look good. I had pillows to make me fat. I had a purple arm cast, so some kids told me I should say that I fell out of my sleigh and broke my arm. I loved to wear that costume again at Christmas.
1995. I was a mummy, so when we went to Boo at the Zoo, I wanted my face painted with a mummy on it. During my school's costume parade, I held my arms out in front of me the whole time, so when we went outside and no one was watching us, I was relieved to put my arms down.
1996. I was a grim reaper in a felt costume my mom had made. I think my face was painted white; my robe was black with red trim. I carried around a little plastic scythe. I don't know how I managed that in elementary school; they probably wouldn't allow that today.
1997. I was a jack-o-lantern, with leaves on my shoulders and orange and black curly vine things. I put pillows in the orange shirt to round it out. I remember my cousin Peter walking around in it, and the pillows dragged the shirt down and stretched it out.
1998. I was obsessed with the Wallace and Gromit shows, so I was Wallace, with a bald cap, a green sweater vest and red tie, and a stuffed dog that I carried around with me. Seeing the bald and the dog, someone thought I was Charlie Brown, but Ann Palmer, who was standing next to her, recognized me as Wallace. A few people knew who I was.
1999. Oh boy. I've always been a nerd, and in fifth grade I was especially nerdy, having a fascination with chess, even though I was horrible at it. I decided I wanted to be a chess piece, so I decided on a white king--a white robe, white face paint, and a white cross on my head. I doubt anyone knew I was a chess piece. They either thought I was a religious nut or a member of the KKK. I'm glad I didn't get arrested.
2000. Taking the idea from someone mistaking my costume two years earlier, and with my fairly new-found interest in Peanuts, it was only natural that I be Charlie Brown. I wore a baseball cap (because I didn't want a bald cap) and his shirt (which my mom had made), and carried around Snoopy, who had been Gromit two years earlier. (He really looked more like Snoopy than like Gromit.)
2001. Since I no longer went trick-or-treating, and my school had uniforms, there was no point in dressing up.
2002. Since my family was going to be out of the country on Halloween night, I decided not to celebrate Halloween that year, which was probably a bit silly.
2003. I didn't have much opportunity to wear it, but I wore a Charlie Brown ghost costume. You know, with all the holes in it.
2004. During the spring, during South Davis Junior High's spirit week, my mom had constructed a Fred Flintstone costume for decade day, so I wore that for Halloween.
2005. I think I wore the Flintstone costume to the mutual party, but when I took Allie trick-or-treating, I was a traditional ghost (with only two eyeholes).
2006. I was a vampire, with a suit, a medallion, and a beautiful cape.
2007. I was a vampire again, but I think I had some enhancements. I painted my nails black, and I had a red and black bowtie.
2008. Elder Love and I wore identical ties, and I switched our name tags, so we were each other for Halloween. Only at district meeting, though.
2009. Nothing.
2010. I was a vampire yet again--but this time, I had teeth to go with the costume.
2011. A vampire again, but this time I was younger. I first wore my costume to a Halloween 5k, with red athletic shorts and a scary red-and-black skull shirt, with a cheaper red and black cape. I wore red shoes on Halloween.
2012. I only dressed up one day, and I wore the same simple vampire costume, but with red regular shorts instead of athletic shorts.
2013. You guessed it. A vampire, but with no cape. At a Halloween party, I got my face painted rather scarily.
I like my vampire costume, but it's time to move on.
Showing posts with label South Davis Junior High. Show all posts
Showing posts with label South Davis Junior High. Show all posts
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Brother Heaston, the false-doctrine seminary teacher
In ninth grade at South Davis Junior High, I began seminary.
And looking back, it's sad to me that all of us students were introduced into seminary by having one Brother Heaston. We all liked him when we had him; he was a fun guy, and I think he was good at making students passionate about the gospel.
But I remember a few years later, I was in a conversation with people who had him, and although we had liked him at the time, we realized he taught some false doctrines and did some other questionable things. So I'm going to remember some of the things that make me question why he still got to teach seminary.
For one thing, his class was the most rigorous seminary class I had all four years, and it was more taxing than many of my regular classes. During spring break, we had to do a writeup about Isaiah. It was due the day after Easter, and it required us to read every day during spring break and write about it. Which meant he was basically ensuring that we would be doing homework on Easter, a family day. Toward the end of the year, we had to spend ten hours on a gospel project, at a time when we had projects in other classes.
Now, there's nothing wrong with challenging seminary classes, because many students don't take it seriously. But his demands were excessive, and since it was our first seminary class, we didn't know just how excessive it was.
There was one day in which we had an entire lesson for the entire class period about how we should never call adults by their first name, or even just their last name--even if they asked us to call them by their first name. We must always use "Brother or Sister" or "Mr. or Mrs." But calling your friends' mom "Mom" was acceptable because it was a title. I understand the idea of respecting your elders--but to devote an entire lesson to it was a little ridiculous, and calling an adult "Sister" or "Mrs." when they asked you not to seems more disrespectful.
Once we had a lesson about fasting. He asked, "How long should you fast?" One student said, "Two meals." He said, "No, it is not two meals, it is twenty-four hours." Umm, a quick search on lds.org reveals that Church publications say two meals. I remember one conference talk in which a Seventy said "Two meals or twenty-four hours." So even with your point of twenty-four hours, you can't say "two meals" is incorrect, and in fact it looks like two meals is the more doctrinal one. "Two meals" may be easily misinterpreted, but it isn't wrong.
Occasionally we would write essays in class, and he would edit our papers when he gave them back, although we weren't graded on the grammar. However, he said that serial commas (also known as the Oxford comma) were incorrect, because a college professor had told him they were. Um, no. It depends on the style, but according to The Chicago Manual of Style, the most common style in the U.S., they say you should use them. They aid clarity. As a seminary teacher, he had no right to insist on not using those commas, especially when he was wrong.
I remember one day when he passingly mentioned he didn't believe in dinosaurs. That seems so absurd to me that now I'm wondering if he really said that. But I think he did.
Early in the school year, he gave a lesson about how to give a good talk. One of the things he said to do was to engage the audience by saying, "Turn with me to [such and such a scripture]." The First Presidency has issued letters saying you shouldn't have people turn in their scriptures during sacrament meeting. I don't know if they issued that statement before he gave us that lesson, but it's wrong.
Once during the opening hymn, Colby Johnson was just lip-syncing to the opening hymn, so Brother Heaston sat directly in front of him to intimidate him into really singing.
One day someone was saying the prayer and saying "Lord" repeatedly throughout, and afterwards Brother Heaston told him it was a great prayer. It seems weird to me to compliment a prayer, especially if he didn't compliment others'.
One day, he was explaining that he didn't like movies like The Singles Ward because they make fun of our religion. It's OK not to like those movies (I find them a bit ridiculous), but I don't think they make fun of our religion--they make fun of the non-doctrinal subculture of our religion.
This was the year that The Passion of the Christ came out. He was very adamant that you shouldn't see it because it was rated R and the prophet said not to watch R-rated movies. That is not doctrine, and there are multiple reasons why. I wouldn't have a problem with him saying why he didn't think it advisable to see it, but to say not to simply because the prophet said not to--which isn't true--was overly simplistic.
One day, we learned about the requirement in the law of Moses to put lamb's blood on the right ear, thumb, and toe. As an object lesson, he took a red marker and made marks on those places on all of us. Which isn't necessarily bad, but is definitely odd, and a little hypocritical since he was a big advocate of not writing on yourself.
I'm sure there were other things he said or did that seemed wrong to me. I'm sure there are other things as well that didn't strike me as odd at that time, since I was young in the gospel, but if I heard them today I would find them false. After a mission, graduating from BYU, and being thrust into the world of Mormon scholarship because of my profession, I could engage him in a discussion and prove him wrong.
And looking back, it's sad to me that all of us students were introduced into seminary by having one Brother Heaston. We all liked him when we had him; he was a fun guy, and I think he was good at making students passionate about the gospel.
But I remember a few years later, I was in a conversation with people who had him, and although we had liked him at the time, we realized he taught some false doctrines and did some other questionable things. So I'm going to remember some of the things that make me question why he still got to teach seminary.
For one thing, his class was the most rigorous seminary class I had all four years, and it was more taxing than many of my regular classes. During spring break, we had to do a writeup about Isaiah. It was due the day after Easter, and it required us to read every day during spring break and write about it. Which meant he was basically ensuring that we would be doing homework on Easter, a family day. Toward the end of the year, we had to spend ten hours on a gospel project, at a time when we had projects in other classes.
Now, there's nothing wrong with challenging seminary classes, because many students don't take it seriously. But his demands were excessive, and since it was our first seminary class, we didn't know just how excessive it was.
There was one day in which we had an entire lesson for the entire class period about how we should never call adults by their first name, or even just their last name--even if they asked us to call them by their first name. We must always use "Brother or Sister" or "Mr. or Mrs." But calling your friends' mom "Mom" was acceptable because it was a title. I understand the idea of respecting your elders--but to devote an entire lesson to it was a little ridiculous, and calling an adult "Sister" or "Mrs." when they asked you not to seems more disrespectful.
Once we had a lesson about fasting. He asked, "How long should you fast?" One student said, "Two meals." He said, "No, it is not two meals, it is twenty-four hours." Umm, a quick search on lds.org reveals that Church publications say two meals. I remember one conference talk in which a Seventy said "Two meals or twenty-four hours." So even with your point of twenty-four hours, you can't say "two meals" is incorrect, and in fact it looks like two meals is the more doctrinal one. "Two meals" may be easily misinterpreted, but it isn't wrong.
Occasionally we would write essays in class, and he would edit our papers when he gave them back, although we weren't graded on the grammar. However, he said that serial commas (also known as the Oxford comma) were incorrect, because a college professor had told him they were. Um, no. It depends on the style, but according to The Chicago Manual of Style, the most common style in the U.S., they say you should use them. They aid clarity. As a seminary teacher, he had no right to insist on not using those commas, especially when he was wrong.
I remember one day when he passingly mentioned he didn't believe in dinosaurs. That seems so absurd to me that now I'm wondering if he really said that. But I think he did.
Early in the school year, he gave a lesson about how to give a good talk. One of the things he said to do was to engage the audience by saying, "Turn with me to [such and such a scripture]." The First Presidency has issued letters saying you shouldn't have people turn in their scriptures during sacrament meeting. I don't know if they issued that statement before he gave us that lesson, but it's wrong.
Once during the opening hymn, Colby Johnson was just lip-syncing to the opening hymn, so Brother Heaston sat directly in front of him to intimidate him into really singing.
One day someone was saying the prayer and saying "Lord" repeatedly throughout, and afterwards Brother Heaston told him it was a great prayer. It seems weird to me to compliment a prayer, especially if he didn't compliment others'.
One day, he was explaining that he didn't like movies like The Singles Ward because they make fun of our religion. It's OK not to like those movies (I find them a bit ridiculous), but I don't think they make fun of our religion--they make fun of the non-doctrinal subculture of our religion.
This was the year that The Passion of the Christ came out. He was very adamant that you shouldn't see it because it was rated R and the prophet said not to watch R-rated movies. That is not doctrine, and there are multiple reasons why. I wouldn't have a problem with him saying why he didn't think it advisable to see it, but to say not to simply because the prophet said not to--which isn't true--was overly simplistic.
One day, we learned about the requirement in the law of Moses to put lamb's blood on the right ear, thumb, and toe. As an object lesson, he took a red marker and made marks on those places on all of us. Which isn't necessarily bad, but is definitely odd, and a little hypocritical since he was a big advocate of not writing on yourself.
I'm sure there were other things he said or did that seemed wrong to me. I'm sure there are other things as well that didn't strike me as odd at that time, since I was young in the gospel, but if I heard them today I would find them false. After a mission, graduating from BYU, and being thrust into the world of Mormon scholarship because of my profession, I could engage him in a discussion and prove him wrong.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Two days before Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is next week! I'm going to remember the things I have done two days before the holiday--namely, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.
2012. I met with my editing group in my editing class. Some students were mad that we students had to be there but the professor didn't. After that meeting, I went over to the Cougareat and bought some pumpkin soup. I considered getting a donut with Thanksgiving sprinkles, but I decided against it. Then I got ready to go home. I had offered a ride to a girl in my ward, Larissa, so I went over and helped her put her stuff in my car. She ate leftover pizza while I drove. I went on Center Street to get on the freeway and had problems with lanes ending. Larissa and I talked about classes we were taking that semester and the next, and Larissa said she was taking a family history class for fun. My GPS got me off the freeway in the right place, but I kept getting lost when I took her to her aunt's house. I helped her get her stuff out. Then I drove home, turning on some Thanksgiving songs on my Peanuts CD. I was so happy to be home and share all my Thanksgiving candy.
2010. The news had been telling us all about a great blizzard that would be coming that day. When I got up in the morning, it was extremely windy and bitter cold. I went outside to try to pick up our trash can and the garbage that fell out of it, and I got super cold in just a short time--I remember talking to the guys across the street about how crazy it was. Then I went and got a haircut. I remember saying that I was worried about driving home from work in the snow. After the haircut, I went to Winegar's and got some apple cider to spice. I came home and put my spiced cider on. I was preparing for work when one of my leads, Dave, called and told me that they were sending people home and telling us not to come in. So I got to stay home. My mom and dad later came home and I told them how I had lucked out by not having to go in. I remember watching the storm come in; the clouds were really ominous. It was a good snowstorm, but it wasn't as blizzardy as they had predicted (and as I had expected, with how cold and windy it was that morning). I could only get blurry pictures.
2009. I was on exchanges with Elder Hansen in Pullman. We bundled up that morning--it was freezing, certainly not what I was used to in Lewiston. There was snow all over.
We went around various places that day. For lunch we stopped at Jack in the Box and I got a pumpkin shake with my meal. Later, we were near an apartment complex when Elder Hansen got a call from an Asian girl named Penny. He was telling her how he tries to be Christlike, and I heard her say, "You look like Christ!" We both silently laughed, and after the phone call, I said, "Did she say, 'You look like Christ'?" He told me how she had pasted his face onto the picture of Jesus looking down and holding the lamb that is on the Restoration pamphlet. He said she had made a cartoon drawing with Elder Keddington saying her only options were to get baptized. After the phone call we got out of the car and went to knock some doors, but I don't think anyone answered. Most of the snow had melted at this point. Then we stopped at another apartment complex, where there were signs telling the residents to keep their heaters on for Thanksgiving. We went and had dinner with a married couple. Elder Hansen told them how we had come out at the same time, and they might have known that we were going home in less than a week. I remember thinking that those members must have been thinking that I didn't act like I'd been out that long. Eventually we went back to Lewiston. When we got to our apartment, I said to Elder Hansen, "You look like Christ." Elder Keddington said, "Did you guys see Penny?" Elder Hansen explained that she had called him. Elder Keddington then told us the story how she showed them a PowerPoint with the picture of Jesus and said, "Who is this?" They said, "Jesus...?" She said, "No, who is it really?" and then came the mashup of Elder Hansen on Jesus. The night before, we had coined the term "ferociolicious," and Elder Keddington wrote the word on the picture I had drawn on the whiteboard of various scary things happening to Elder LaPratt, but he spelled it "Froiouslious."
2008. Elder Love called a less-active who lived way out in the boonies to see if we could come visit him. He reluctantly accepted. We drove out to really rural places. We went to a place that was a little gully in the middle of wheat fields where there were some houses. We were amazed at the frost at that location.
We had a potential investigator to check on in that neighborhood, but I think I convinced us not to. (We should have, though, since we rarely went out that way. I think we didn't because it was getting dark and we didn't know where to park and just plain fear.) We checked on a less active someplace, not knowing what to expect, but she was very nice and let us in. She actually told us she went to the Medical Lake ward instead of the Davenport Branch because she didn't feel welcome in Davenport. She told us that her neighbors would probably be mean to us. Then we drove off to our appointment. He was the son of a member in a nursing home. He was nice, and we visited him and his sister. While we were there, I could hear someone watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving in the other room. When we left and went to our car, it was snowing lightly. The man came out and told us that he had been reluctant to have us there because his sister had lost her testimony--but she had been courteous to us as well. We were driving when we encountered a sign that said, "Water over roadway." We were out in the middle of nowhere. We got out and examined the water on the roadway, and this place looked just like a place I had seen in a dream in the MTC, in which my aunt's van got stuck on a muddy road. We were debating whether or not to drive through the river.
2007. Susanne took me to get a splint for my sprained ankle. I think we stopped at Arctic Circle, and while we were there, I saw a bread truck fueling up at the gas station next door. Apparently the driver forgot to put it in park, because suddenly the truck went forward and the driver was running alongside it. It didn't stop until it went over the curb and hit the gas station sign. I might have watched The Munsters' Scary Little Christmas that night (since I had just gotten the DVD), but I can't remember if it was that night or the next.
2005. I can remember sitting in my biology class, wearing a yellow polo shirt with a red tie.
2004. I probably had some apple pie ice cream. I remember studying my chemistry flashcards and finishing all the homework I meant to, which might have been the only time I did so in all of high school. I might have watched the Thanksgiving episode of Bewitched.
2003. I gave the devotional in seminary, although I can't remember what it was. I was wearing my yellow shirt. That night, I went with my parents to Hale Center Theater to see Annie. My mom pointed out a man wearing a toupee. My dad said at least it was better than Annie's, but my mom and I thought he said "better than Allie's," since baby Allie had some hair problems. When we got home, I ate chips and salsa and cheese.
1999. During lunchtime they always showed videos, and on this day they were showing A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, which I had never seen before. I especially found the cooking scene amusing. There was a display of harvest vegetables, and they were giving them away, so I took some small pumpkins. That night my mom went to Toys R Us and bought VHS tapes of The Iron Giant and A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. The Iron Giant came with a toy, and I tried to get it out but ended up destroying the plastic on the clamshell case. My friend David Christensen came over for a sleepover, and I think we watched both of those movies.
1996. We were having a Thanksgiving meal in the classroom. We all had paper Pilgrim and Indian hats and headbands and put our desks together like giant tables. The hot lunch people went and got their Thanksgiving meals from the cafeteria, while we paper sack people stayed and started eating. That afternoon we played some kind of game (maybe Bingo) with Reese's Pieces. Miss Slater said she picked that candy because of their fall colors.
2012. I met with my editing group in my editing class. Some students were mad that we students had to be there but the professor didn't. After that meeting, I went over to the Cougareat and bought some pumpkin soup. I considered getting a donut with Thanksgiving sprinkles, but I decided against it. Then I got ready to go home. I had offered a ride to a girl in my ward, Larissa, so I went over and helped her put her stuff in my car. She ate leftover pizza while I drove. I went on Center Street to get on the freeway and had problems with lanes ending. Larissa and I talked about classes we were taking that semester and the next, and Larissa said she was taking a family history class for fun. My GPS got me off the freeway in the right place, but I kept getting lost when I took her to her aunt's house. I helped her get her stuff out. Then I drove home, turning on some Thanksgiving songs on my Peanuts CD. I was so happy to be home and share all my Thanksgiving candy.
2010. The news had been telling us all about a great blizzard that would be coming that day. When I got up in the morning, it was extremely windy and bitter cold. I went outside to try to pick up our trash can and the garbage that fell out of it, and I got super cold in just a short time--I remember talking to the guys across the street about how crazy it was. Then I went and got a haircut. I remember saying that I was worried about driving home from work in the snow. After the haircut, I went to Winegar's and got some apple cider to spice. I came home and put my spiced cider on. I was preparing for work when one of my leads, Dave, called and told me that they were sending people home and telling us not to come in. So I got to stay home. My mom and dad later came home and I told them how I had lucked out by not having to go in. I remember watching the storm come in; the clouds were really ominous. It was a good snowstorm, but it wasn't as blizzardy as they had predicted (and as I had expected, with how cold and windy it was that morning). I could only get blurry pictures.
2009. I was on exchanges with Elder Hansen in Pullman. We bundled up that morning--it was freezing, certainly not what I was used to in Lewiston. There was snow all over.
2008. Elder Love called a less-active who lived way out in the boonies to see if we could come visit him. He reluctantly accepted. We drove out to really rural places. We went to a place that was a little gully in the middle of wheat fields where there were some houses. We were amazed at the frost at that location.
Elder Love worried that the ice in the stream might do some damage, so we turned around and went another way. In our travelings, we were amused by this sign. (We were in farm country, after all.)
2007. Susanne took me to get a splint for my sprained ankle. I think we stopped at Arctic Circle, and while we were there, I saw a bread truck fueling up at the gas station next door. Apparently the driver forgot to put it in park, because suddenly the truck went forward and the driver was running alongside it. It didn't stop until it went over the curb and hit the gas station sign. I might have watched The Munsters' Scary Little Christmas that night (since I had just gotten the DVD), but I can't remember if it was that night or the next.
2005. I can remember sitting in my biology class, wearing a yellow polo shirt with a red tie.
2004. I probably had some apple pie ice cream. I remember studying my chemistry flashcards and finishing all the homework I meant to, which might have been the only time I did so in all of high school. I might have watched the Thanksgiving episode of Bewitched.
2003. I gave the devotional in seminary, although I can't remember what it was. I was wearing my yellow shirt. That night, I went with my parents to Hale Center Theater to see Annie. My mom pointed out a man wearing a toupee. My dad said at least it was better than Annie's, but my mom and I thought he said "better than Allie's," since baby Allie had some hair problems. When we got home, I ate chips and salsa and cheese.
1999. During lunchtime they always showed videos, and on this day they were showing A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, which I had never seen before. I especially found the cooking scene amusing. There was a display of harvest vegetables, and they were giving them away, so I took some small pumpkins. That night my mom went to Toys R Us and bought VHS tapes of The Iron Giant and A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. The Iron Giant came with a toy, and I tried to get it out but ended up destroying the plastic on the clamshell case. My friend David Christensen came over for a sleepover, and I think we watched both of those movies.
1996. We were having a Thanksgiving meal in the classroom. We all had paper Pilgrim and Indian hats and headbands and put our desks together like giant tables. The hot lunch people went and got their Thanksgiving meals from the cafeteria, while we paper sack people stayed and started eating. That afternoon we played some kind of game (maybe Bingo) with Reese's Pieces. Miss Slater said she picked that candy because of their fall colors.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
One of my most shameful moments
The problem with having a good memory (as everyone tells me I have) is that sometimes I remember things that I don't want to remember.
And when I think about my life, the time when I did the stupidest, worst things when I was in ninth grade. A decade later, I'm glad I'm not that age anymore.
There is one event that when I think about it now, I am filled with so much guilt and embarrassment that I want to close my eyes in shame (which means I can't think about it when I'm driving).
It was towards the end of the school year in 2004. In my Earth Systems class, we were working in the computer lab. It was school policy that you weren't allowed to play games online, and if you did, you could lose your computer access. Well, the girl sitting next to me was playing games.
Call me what you will--a tattle-tale, a nark, a squealer--I went and told the teacher, "Jennifer Bakker* is playing computer games," and then I went and sat in my seat.
[*Names have been changed.]
The teacher then said out loud, "Jennifer Bakker, shut down your computer." The girl next to me said, "Do you think she knows?" and closed out of her computer game.
Then I noticed the computer lady walking with a girl down to the office.
And soon thereafter, the teacher came up to me and said, "Did you mean the girl sitting by you?"
You see, there was a girl named Jennifer Bakker in my class. But it wasn't the girl next to me playing video games. Her name was Janelle Evans*. I had condemned an innocent girl.
The teacher said to me that she did notice that the girl next to me had closed out of her game. I don't remember exactly what she said, but it sounded like when I told her Jennifer Bakker, she thought I was talking about Janelle Evans.
I think it got sorted out that Jennifer hadn't done anything wrong. But I felt so terrible and dumb.
I suppose it wasn't any of my business what Janelle was doing on her computer. It wasn't my place to tattle. Maybe it would have been if she were looking at porn or learning how to build a bomb, but not for just playing games. But even if I was justified in telling on her, I definitely should not have done so without knowing her name.
Last summer, I told this story to some classmates in my French class. One of them said to me, "We would have shoved you in a locker for that."
And that would have been fitting. (Except that I was too big to fit in the lockers.)
And when I think about my life, the time when I did the stupidest, worst things when I was in ninth grade. A decade later, I'm glad I'm not that age anymore.
There is one event that when I think about it now, I am filled with so much guilt and embarrassment that I want to close my eyes in shame (which means I can't think about it when I'm driving).
It was towards the end of the school year in 2004. In my Earth Systems class, we were working in the computer lab. It was school policy that you weren't allowed to play games online, and if you did, you could lose your computer access. Well, the girl sitting next to me was playing games.
Call me what you will--a tattle-tale, a nark, a squealer--I went and told the teacher, "Jennifer Bakker* is playing computer games," and then I went and sat in my seat.
[*Names have been changed.]
The teacher then said out loud, "Jennifer Bakker, shut down your computer." The girl next to me said, "Do you think she knows?" and closed out of her computer game.
Then I noticed the computer lady walking with a girl down to the office.
And soon thereafter, the teacher came up to me and said, "Did you mean the girl sitting by you?"
You see, there was a girl named Jennifer Bakker in my class. But it wasn't the girl next to me playing video games. Her name was Janelle Evans*. I had condemned an innocent girl.
The teacher said to me that she did notice that the girl next to me had closed out of her game. I don't remember exactly what she said, but it sounded like when I told her Jennifer Bakker, she thought I was talking about Janelle Evans.
I think it got sorted out that Jennifer hadn't done anything wrong. But I felt so terrible and dumb.
I suppose it wasn't any of my business what Janelle was doing on her computer. It wasn't my place to tattle. Maybe it would have been if she were looking at porn or learning how to build a bomb, but not for just playing games. But even if I was justified in telling on her, I definitely should not have done so without knowing her name.
Last summer, I told this story to some classmates in my French class. One of them said to me, "We would have shoved you in a locker for that."
And that would have been fitting. (Except that I was too big to fit in the lockers.)
Monday, August 5, 2013
The "Crazy Years"
When my sister Susanne was a teenager, she went through a time that we call the "crazy years." I was only a little kid, about five. I now know some of the things that were going on, but I don't know all of it. However, I'm going to write about what I remember as a little kid. (My brother would have a rather different recollection of the goings-on of this time period.)
I have one memory that would have occurred early on in the crazy years or maybe even before them. We had some other kids over, the Downings, and I saw a ripe tomato in our backyard garden. I thought it was really cool--even though I didn't like tomatoes--so I picked it and carried it around with me that day. That night I slept in my sister's bed; I liked to do that. (I don't remember where she slept--maybe on the other mattress, since it was a trundle bed.) I even took the tomato to bed with me. I woke up in the morning--but the tomato didn't. I smashed it in the middle of the night. It stained the sheet, and for a long time after that I would ask to see the stained sheet.
I would have been in preschool, although I actually don't remember my preschool life overlapping with my crazy-year life. I think my preschool was only a few days a week.
I would spend the days at home with Susanne. She would faint often. I would hear her sigh and she would fall to the floor. Sometimes I would like to go over and open her eyes. I remember her using vinegar to clean the carpet after she would pee on it. Eventually she got a monitor to carry around, and I was supposed to press a little button whenever she fainted. Sometimes I would do it; however, it made an eerie beeping noise, so I was often too creeped out to press it. Once my mom and sister asked me why I didn't press it, and I told them it was scary.
Although her fainting was a regular occurrence, one day I decided to call 911 when she fainted. I remember the dispatcher asking me where she fainted. I told her, "In the living room," because that's where it happened--although I don't think that's what the dispatcher wanted to know. The police showed up and I let them in. One officer asked what her name was. When I told him, he kept saying "Susanne" to try to revive her. (Apparently some news channel called us later and talked to my dad, asking if they could do a story about me. He said, "I'll have to talk to my wife about it"--thus blowing my chance at fame. Rats!)
Susanne and my mom also had to go to counseling appointments. Sometimes I would go with. I remember one visit when the counselor told Susanne to make sure she ate veggies--I had never heard "vegetables" abbreviated that way before. There was another visit shortly after Christmas, when my mom bought me a Christmas stamp kit (probably on clearance). I think she got it to go with the turtle stamp I got at Sea World. I can remember sitting outside the office, stamping away on a piece of paper. I can't remember whether the stamp had music notes on it, or if only the ink pad was decorated with music notes. I remember getting home and stamping with my turtle stamp as well.
Susanne didn't go to school and was tutored by "Wangs," the women's coach at South Davis Junior High (I didn't know that was her name until I went to SDJH). I remember one wintery day when my mom was playing outside in the snow with me while Wangs was inside tutoring. We threw a snowball at the window. Then when we went back inside, I told them that we threw a snowball at the window, and Wangs said, "I said, 'Who threw that snowball?'" We had a wooden puzzle-piece reindeer, and Wangs asked me what its name was. I told her Rudolph, and she said it couldn't be Rudolph because its nose wasn't red.
During the day I would watch TV with Susanne. She liked watching the Vicki talk show. She used to watch reruns of I Love Lucy and Bewitched and occasionally The Andy Griffith Show. I remember watching the Bewitched episode in which Tabitha goes into the story of Hansel and Gretel. I remember the Lucy episode when they were in Europe and had to have multiple language interpreters. This was the first seed in my interest in old TV shows.
My dad had a rowing machine that had a large black rectangle with little white specks on it. I decided that it looked like a TV with a starry sky on it, so I would pretend it was showing The Jetsons. Later I decided that if it was showing The Jetsons, it could show other shows as well, so I remember one day pretending that I had a whole collection of shows to watch on this imaginary TV. I told Susanne that I even had Vicki.
We also used to watch The Sound of Music almost every day.
I remember one day there was a cat stuck in our window well. Susanne and I went out with my little blue blanket and put it down the window well so that the cat could climb out.
I'm sure I will remember more after I post this--but that's all for now!
I have one memory that would have occurred early on in the crazy years or maybe even before them. We had some other kids over, the Downings, and I saw a ripe tomato in our backyard garden. I thought it was really cool--even though I didn't like tomatoes--so I picked it and carried it around with me that day. That night I slept in my sister's bed; I liked to do that. (I don't remember where she slept--maybe on the other mattress, since it was a trundle bed.) I even took the tomato to bed with me. I woke up in the morning--but the tomato didn't. I smashed it in the middle of the night. It stained the sheet, and for a long time after that I would ask to see the stained sheet.
I would have been in preschool, although I actually don't remember my preschool life overlapping with my crazy-year life. I think my preschool was only a few days a week.
I would spend the days at home with Susanne. She would faint often. I would hear her sigh and she would fall to the floor. Sometimes I would like to go over and open her eyes. I remember her using vinegar to clean the carpet after she would pee on it. Eventually she got a monitor to carry around, and I was supposed to press a little button whenever she fainted. Sometimes I would do it; however, it made an eerie beeping noise, so I was often too creeped out to press it. Once my mom and sister asked me why I didn't press it, and I told them it was scary.
Although her fainting was a regular occurrence, one day I decided to call 911 when she fainted. I remember the dispatcher asking me where she fainted. I told her, "In the living room," because that's where it happened--although I don't think that's what the dispatcher wanted to know. The police showed up and I let them in. One officer asked what her name was. When I told him, he kept saying "Susanne" to try to revive her. (Apparently some news channel called us later and talked to my dad, asking if they could do a story about me. He said, "I'll have to talk to my wife about it"--thus blowing my chance at fame. Rats!)
Susanne and my mom also had to go to counseling appointments. Sometimes I would go with. I remember one visit when the counselor told Susanne to make sure she ate veggies--I had never heard "vegetables" abbreviated that way before. There was another visit shortly after Christmas, when my mom bought me a Christmas stamp kit (probably on clearance). I think she got it to go with the turtle stamp I got at Sea World. I can remember sitting outside the office, stamping away on a piece of paper. I can't remember whether the stamp had music notes on it, or if only the ink pad was decorated with music notes. I remember getting home and stamping with my turtle stamp as well.
Susanne didn't go to school and was tutored by "Wangs," the women's coach at South Davis Junior High (I didn't know that was her name until I went to SDJH). I remember one wintery day when my mom was playing outside in the snow with me while Wangs was inside tutoring. We threw a snowball at the window. Then when we went back inside, I told them that we threw a snowball at the window, and Wangs said, "I said, 'Who threw that snowball?'" We had a wooden puzzle-piece reindeer, and Wangs asked me what its name was. I told her Rudolph, and she said it couldn't be Rudolph because its nose wasn't red.
During the day I would watch TV with Susanne. She liked watching the Vicki talk show. She used to watch reruns of I Love Lucy and Bewitched and occasionally The Andy Griffith Show. I remember watching the Bewitched episode in which Tabitha goes into the story of Hansel and Gretel. I remember the Lucy episode when they were in Europe and had to have multiple language interpreters. This was the first seed in my interest in old TV shows.
My dad had a rowing machine that had a large black rectangle with little white specks on it. I decided that it looked like a TV with a starry sky on it, so I would pretend it was showing The Jetsons. Later I decided that if it was showing The Jetsons, it could show other shows as well, so I remember one day pretending that I had a whole collection of shows to watch on this imaginary TV. I told Susanne that I even had Vicki.
We also used to watch The Sound of Music almost every day.
I remember one day there was a cat stuck in our window well. Susanne and I went out with my little blue blanket and put it down the window well so that the cat could climb out.
I'm sure I will remember more after I post this--but that's all for now!
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Last day of school
Public schools either just got out for the summer or are about to get out. That doesn't apply to me anymore. But I'm going to remember when it did--that precious last day of school. Now, I would be able to remember more if I had my yearbooks with me, but I don't, so I will have to go on what I can remember. I know I will remember more things after I post this.
2007. Both of my parents were gone that morning, and we had recently sold our "pink" car, so both the Subaru and the Taurus were gone, which meant I had to drive the Suburban to school. I was a little nervous to drive it to school, and I think I even had Susanne back it out of the garage for me. Then I drove to school and parked in the back parking lot. I got signatures from various people. I remember a discussion about how impersonal the "Hags" acronym was. I got a signing from Mrs. Jamison, who had been my French teacher. After she signed mine, she told me that she almost said she hoped I would get called to a French-speaking mission, but then she realized that she wished I would learn a harder language than French. (And then I got English.) She said that she wanted to know where I got called, so I should make sure it was announced in the Clipper. (That never happened either, neither when I left nor when I came home.) Eventually it was time for me to go home to get ready for graduation. I got in my grad garb and we took pictures of me in front of the fireplace. Then we went over to the "Turtle Building" for commencement exercises. People seemed impressed by all my honor cords. I had a light green one for science, a gold one for High Honors, and two light yellow ones for foreign language (one for Spanish and one for French). While we were standing waiting to go in, I remember someone saying they had asked Brian Mann if he was gay, and he had said, "No, but I support my brother," and they said that thought Brian just wasn't brave enough to admit it. Then we went in and sat down. We all had to fill out little cards with our names on them that the senior officers would read as we pretended to get our diplomas. I filled mine out as "R. Mark Melville" because I was in the habit of doing so (now I usually leave the R. off). They announced that there was going to be an opening remark by Jenelyn Perry, and when she got up she announced that it was a prayer for anyone who wanted to participate. I took off my graduation cap with others, hoping that I would put it on right again. When it was time to go up, I was surprised at all the cheers I got when they announced my name. But my cheers were nothing compared to Jacob Merrill's, the special needs kid who was after me. Then we had to wait in long lines to get our real diplomas. Then afterward I talked with my friend Houston Rowe. My family took pictures with me:
Then we went home and had pizza. The Thompsons also came over. Everyone had fun looking at my yearbook. Jesse read my emo poem, "I Am a Corpse," which was published in the back. He was surprised at how depressing it was and said, "It gets better." Allie looked at my picture. Of course, I was wearing that little fake tux in my picture, and there was a girl's photo next to mine. Allie pointed to her picture and said, "Who's that lady? Did you marry her?" Chancey, Jesse, and I all thought that was quite funny, so we laughed, and we were reproved by our parents, because apparently our laughter had interrupted Grandpa. After Grandpa told his story, we told them why we had been laughing. Since I was completely friendless, my graduation celebration consisted of watching episodes of The Flying Nun. One of the episodes made Sue tear up. After everyone left, I went online and wrote a blog post on my TV.com profile. (Apparently TV.com doesn't have blogs anymore, so I have to link to it on my Gamespot account, which you get automatically with a TV.com account.) I chatted with Jesse on Messenger. The title of my blog, "The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things," was a line from Lewis Carroll's "The Walrus and the Carpenter." I couldn't get quotation marks in the title, but Jesse told me that it was fine. He told me that the poem was about religions leading people astray before eating them up, with the carpenter being Jesus and the walrus being Buddha (because he's fat), but I didn't buy it.
2006. I wore my "Woods Cross Juniors" shirt, since it was the last time I would be a junior. I remember seeing seniors at school and thinking it must be sad for them, and I knew I would be in the same position the following year. At the moment I can't remember what else happened that day.
2005. The administration for some reason thought it would be funny to turn on the fire alarms that day, but it was mostly just annoying. (We had had real arson fires in February of that year.) I remember Natalie Cook was videoing people and videoed me and asked me to share something. So I shared words of "advice" from all the old TV shows I watched, such as "You cannot judge a doctor by the way he carves a turkey" and "Every silver lining has its cloud." (Yeah. I was really weird.)
2004. I remember encouraging my friend Houston to come up to the seminary building to get signatures. He did, but he left shortly after. I signed weird things in yearbooks--of all my school years, I think I was weirdest in ninth grade. Special-needs kids Jacob Merrill and Andrew Church had stickers they put in yearbooks. Brad Byington signed my yearbook saying he hoped I would go on the scout trip that summer. (I didn't.) Houston and Josh Ferrer wanted to go to Mrs. Birdsall's classroom to play Scrabble. I told Mrs. Birdsall that I was going to take French the next year. There were some former students visiting her.
2003. The administration had had the brilliant idea that we should still report to all our classes that day, but there would be fifteen minutes between classes for yearbook signing. It only took a few periods for them to realize that was a terrible idea. During the science class, we got our cement boats we had made back (mine didn't float). During the choir class, Dennis Jones was really amused at what I wrote in his yearbook: "Witches--or is that Hags?" I rode the bus home, but when I got to the church/bus stop, no one was there, so I had to walk home. I remember my brother saying, "Well, that was anticlimactic."
2002. This was the only year that school ever got out in May for me (it was May 31). I can't seem to recall what happened at school, but I think that night Jesse had a sleepover at our house, although maybe he only came over but didn't spend the night. There was a Powerpuff Girls marathon in which they counted down the best episodes. I was disappointed in their choice of the best one (the one where all the characters switched bodies).
2001. I brought my Niagara Falls four-color pen to sign yearbooks with. There was a fifth-grader who would talk to me because he liked my Charlie Brown shirt. He asked me to sign his yearbook, so I signed it with my attempt at a Charlie Brown drawing. Kari Fox had brought some Otter Pops, so she took them to the cafeteria freezer so they would freeze. We all signed yearbooks, and I lent my pen to someone, and it ended up missing. I was really sad. Montess Vilchez was crying, and someone said to her, "Don't cry!" But I was sad too, although I didn't cry. When it was time to leave for the day, the Otter Pops still weren't frozen. I had mine open in Laura Ulmer's car on the way home, and right by Walker's gas station, Shantel Cornejo and another girl jumped out into traffic, and Laura slammed on the brakes, making my liquid Otter Pop splash all over me and my yearbook. Laura apologized, and I wondered what made Shantel think she could dart into traffic like that. When they dropped me off, I dowsed myself with the hose, since I was sticky and I thought it was a good way to start off summer.
2000. We had to do a quiz on the states, and I was pretty annoyed. We also had to write a letter to ourselves. I can't remember what else happened.
1999. I remember Mr. Williams showing us a Looney Tunes summer vacation TV special. Then my mom and I went to the building where our eye doctor was; it was very rainy. Then it was time for David's graduation. When everyone was graduated, people threw their caps up, and one cap got stuck on a ledge. After his graduation, David had pictures taken with his friends Michael, Preston, and Heather. They were silly and moved their tassels back as though they hadn't graduated, and my mom had to tell them to put them back. Then we went to China Platter with Preston's family. Sara Hawkes (Preston's younger sister) asked David if he still had his Mad Hatter hat. Preston had a brother with blond splotches dyed in his hair.
1998. I think this was the day my dad had packed my lunch with cookies in it, even though I was going without sugar for a month to earn $20. I ate the cookies, but my mom later told me that I didn't get the $20 because I had cheated too much that month. It was raining while it was sunny, and Jacob Duggar said he didn't like that because it bugged him. Our teacher Mrs. Slagowski gave us some nuts in their shells. We had no way of cracking them. My friend Brian tried to break one open with a spade, but when he struck it, it just shot it across the room and didn't open it. I thought they would be good to use as Thanksgiving decorations, and when I got home I even glued strings to two of them (and put glitter on one) to use as Christmas ornaments. That night I had a sleepover at my house with David Christensen. I asked my mom to buy some peanuts, because I thought that would be a good snack, but then I learned David didn't like them. My brother David was watching The Simpsons; he said it was one of his favorite episodes (the one with all the short stories about Springfield). So I tried to come up with an activity to do with my friend David, so I came up with sledding down the stairs on pillows. But the bottom set of stars had the carpet pulled up, with tacks sticking out, so we could only sled down the top set. We watched The Pagemaster that night. David thought that the name of a literary figure in the movie was a swear word (I won't repeat it here because it will put bad thoughts in your head, since I just said he thought it was bad--even though on its own it isn't bad).
1997. Miss Slater cried when she read the poem she wrote about our class. My grandparents gave my sister a stereo for her graduation. (I don't think they ever got me anything, not that I really wanted anything at the time.)
1996. We signed yearbooks, and I think I might have been annoyed when administrative people signed near their pictures instead of in the autographs section.
1995. All of us clueless kindergarteners thought it was so cool to get a book that had our pictures in it! We didn't know why we got them. I got a slip of paper that said my teacher for the next year was Miss Penman (who would marry over the summer and become Mrs. Taylor). I remember Hillary Ulmer telling her mom excitedly that she got a book with her William Boy in it (oh, kindergarten crushes, if you can call them that...).
2007. Both of my parents were gone that morning, and we had recently sold our "pink" car, so both the Subaru and the Taurus were gone, which meant I had to drive the Suburban to school. I was a little nervous to drive it to school, and I think I even had Susanne back it out of the garage for me. Then I drove to school and parked in the back parking lot. I got signatures from various people. I remember a discussion about how impersonal the "Hags" acronym was. I got a signing from Mrs. Jamison, who had been my French teacher. After she signed mine, she told me that she almost said she hoped I would get called to a French-speaking mission, but then she realized that she wished I would learn a harder language than French. (And then I got English.) She said that she wanted to know where I got called, so I should make sure it was announced in the Clipper. (That never happened either, neither when I left nor when I came home.) Eventually it was time for me to go home to get ready for graduation. I got in my grad garb and we took pictures of me in front of the fireplace. Then we went over to the "Turtle Building" for commencement exercises. People seemed impressed by all my honor cords. I had a light green one for science, a gold one for High Honors, and two light yellow ones for foreign language (one for Spanish and one for French). While we were standing waiting to go in, I remember someone saying they had asked Brian Mann if he was gay, and he had said, "No, but I support my brother," and they said that thought Brian just wasn't brave enough to admit it. Then we went in and sat down. We all had to fill out little cards with our names on them that the senior officers would read as we pretended to get our diplomas. I filled mine out as "R. Mark Melville" because I was in the habit of doing so (now I usually leave the R. off). They announced that there was going to be an opening remark by Jenelyn Perry, and when she got up she announced that it was a prayer for anyone who wanted to participate. I took off my graduation cap with others, hoping that I would put it on right again. When it was time to go up, I was surprised at all the cheers I got when they announced my name. But my cheers were nothing compared to Jacob Merrill's, the special needs kid who was after me. Then we had to wait in long lines to get our real diplomas. Then afterward I talked with my friend Houston Rowe. My family took pictures with me:
Then we went home and had pizza. The Thompsons also came over. Everyone had fun looking at my yearbook. Jesse read my emo poem, "I Am a Corpse," which was published in the back. He was surprised at how depressing it was and said, "It gets better." Allie looked at my picture. Of course, I was wearing that little fake tux in my picture, and there was a girl's photo next to mine. Allie pointed to her picture and said, "Who's that lady? Did you marry her?" Chancey, Jesse, and I all thought that was quite funny, so we laughed, and we were reproved by our parents, because apparently our laughter had interrupted Grandpa. After Grandpa told his story, we told them why we had been laughing. Since I was completely friendless, my graduation celebration consisted of watching episodes of The Flying Nun. One of the episodes made Sue tear up. After everyone left, I went online and wrote a blog post on my TV.com profile. (Apparently TV.com doesn't have blogs anymore, so I have to link to it on my Gamespot account, which you get automatically with a TV.com account.) I chatted with Jesse on Messenger. The title of my blog, "The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things," was a line from Lewis Carroll's "The Walrus and the Carpenter." I couldn't get quotation marks in the title, but Jesse told me that it was fine. He told me that the poem was about religions leading people astray before eating them up, with the carpenter being Jesus and the walrus being Buddha (because he's fat), but I didn't buy it.
2006. I wore my "Woods Cross Juniors" shirt, since it was the last time I would be a junior. I remember seeing seniors at school and thinking it must be sad for them, and I knew I would be in the same position the following year. At the moment I can't remember what else happened that day.
2005. The administration for some reason thought it would be funny to turn on the fire alarms that day, but it was mostly just annoying. (We had had real arson fires in February of that year.) I remember Natalie Cook was videoing people and videoed me and asked me to share something. So I shared words of "advice" from all the old TV shows I watched, such as "You cannot judge a doctor by the way he carves a turkey" and "Every silver lining has its cloud." (Yeah. I was really weird.)
2004. I remember encouraging my friend Houston to come up to the seminary building to get signatures. He did, but he left shortly after. I signed weird things in yearbooks--of all my school years, I think I was weirdest in ninth grade. Special-needs kids Jacob Merrill and Andrew Church had stickers they put in yearbooks. Brad Byington signed my yearbook saying he hoped I would go on the scout trip that summer. (I didn't.) Houston and Josh Ferrer wanted to go to Mrs. Birdsall's classroom to play Scrabble. I told Mrs. Birdsall that I was going to take French the next year. There were some former students visiting her.
2003. The administration had had the brilliant idea that we should still report to all our classes that day, but there would be fifteen minutes between classes for yearbook signing. It only took a few periods for them to realize that was a terrible idea. During the science class, we got our cement boats we had made back (mine didn't float). During the choir class, Dennis Jones was really amused at what I wrote in his yearbook: "Witches--or is that Hags?" I rode the bus home, but when I got to the church/bus stop, no one was there, so I had to walk home. I remember my brother saying, "Well, that was anticlimactic."
2002. This was the only year that school ever got out in May for me (it was May 31). I can't seem to recall what happened at school, but I think that night Jesse had a sleepover at our house, although maybe he only came over but didn't spend the night. There was a Powerpuff Girls marathon in which they counted down the best episodes. I was disappointed in their choice of the best one (the one where all the characters switched bodies).
2001. I brought my Niagara Falls four-color pen to sign yearbooks with. There was a fifth-grader who would talk to me because he liked my Charlie Brown shirt. He asked me to sign his yearbook, so I signed it with my attempt at a Charlie Brown drawing. Kari Fox had brought some Otter Pops, so she took them to the cafeteria freezer so they would freeze. We all signed yearbooks, and I lent my pen to someone, and it ended up missing. I was really sad. Montess Vilchez was crying, and someone said to her, "Don't cry!" But I was sad too, although I didn't cry. When it was time to leave for the day, the Otter Pops still weren't frozen. I had mine open in Laura Ulmer's car on the way home, and right by Walker's gas station, Shantel Cornejo and another girl jumped out into traffic, and Laura slammed on the brakes, making my liquid Otter Pop splash all over me and my yearbook. Laura apologized, and I wondered what made Shantel think she could dart into traffic like that. When they dropped me off, I dowsed myself with the hose, since I was sticky and I thought it was a good way to start off summer.
2000. We had to do a quiz on the states, and I was pretty annoyed. We also had to write a letter to ourselves. I can't remember what else happened.
1999. I remember Mr. Williams showing us a Looney Tunes summer vacation TV special. Then my mom and I went to the building where our eye doctor was; it was very rainy. Then it was time for David's graduation. When everyone was graduated, people threw their caps up, and one cap got stuck on a ledge. After his graduation, David had pictures taken with his friends Michael, Preston, and Heather. They were silly and moved their tassels back as though they hadn't graduated, and my mom had to tell them to put them back. Then we went to China Platter with Preston's family. Sara Hawkes (Preston's younger sister) asked David if he still had his Mad Hatter hat. Preston had a brother with blond splotches dyed in his hair.
1998. I think this was the day my dad had packed my lunch with cookies in it, even though I was going without sugar for a month to earn $20. I ate the cookies, but my mom later told me that I didn't get the $20 because I had cheated too much that month. It was raining while it was sunny, and Jacob Duggar said he didn't like that because it bugged him. Our teacher Mrs. Slagowski gave us some nuts in their shells. We had no way of cracking them. My friend Brian tried to break one open with a spade, but when he struck it, it just shot it across the room and didn't open it. I thought they would be good to use as Thanksgiving decorations, and when I got home I even glued strings to two of them (and put glitter on one) to use as Christmas ornaments. That night I had a sleepover at my house with David Christensen. I asked my mom to buy some peanuts, because I thought that would be a good snack, but then I learned David didn't like them. My brother David was watching The Simpsons; he said it was one of his favorite episodes (the one with all the short stories about Springfield). So I tried to come up with an activity to do with my friend David, so I came up with sledding down the stairs on pillows. But the bottom set of stars had the carpet pulled up, with tacks sticking out, so we could only sled down the top set. We watched The Pagemaster that night. David thought that the name of a literary figure in the movie was a swear word (I won't repeat it here because it will put bad thoughts in your head, since I just said he thought it was bad--even though on its own it isn't bad).
1997. Miss Slater cried when she read the poem she wrote about our class. My grandparents gave my sister a stereo for her graduation. (I don't think they ever got me anything, not that I really wanted anything at the time.)
1996. We signed yearbooks, and I think I might have been annoyed when administrative people signed near their pictures instead of in the autographs section.
1995. All of us clueless kindergarteners thought it was so cool to get a book that had our pictures in it! We didn't know why we got them. I got a slip of paper that said my teacher for the next year was Miss Penman (who would marry over the summer and become Mrs. Taylor). I remember Hillary Ulmer telling her mom excitedly that she got a book with her William Boy in it (oh, kindergarten crushes, if you can call them that...).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)